Sulevin'din Shiral
by valiasedai
Summary: Forced from her clan, Elin Mahariel clings to the one thing left to her: duty. But as she struggles to lead amidst the impending Blight, she finds that a Grey Warden's duty is not as simple as she supposed. Written for Bioware Bang 2011.
1. Da'len

Amaril ducked beneath a branch and clutched at her still-distended belly. Her body was still weak and sore from the birth, but she was certain she had heard Nahel calling to her in the forest.

Sweat dripped from her brow as she stumbled through the moon-dappled grass. Nahel could not be dead, not by the hand of _shemlen_ and flat-ears, not with his command over magic. He was out there, waiting for her.

Amaril pressed deeper into the tall, dark pines. She would find him and bring him back. They would be together at last.

* * *

><p>Ashalle hushed the babe in her arms as Marethari approached.<p>

The Keeper's eyes were tired, and her mouth was drawn tight. "Amaril has been found."

Relief welled in Ashalle. The birth had taken almost two full days, and Amaril had been lost to fever dreams shortly after the babe slipped from her body. "Mythal bless us, is she all right?"

Marethari licked her lips and shook her head once. "_Hahren_ Paivel says he will be ready to sing her to rest in the morning."

The breath went out of Ashalle. In the days before the birth pains began, Amaril had begun to smile and laugh again. Ashalle had been certain the child would renew Amaril's hope. "And what of her daughter?"

There were a few moments of silence before Marethari reached out to touch the babe's forehead. "The girl belongs to our clan. I will find someone who wishes to care for her."

The child's earlier discontent had faded into a drowsy sleep. Ashalle pressed her lips to the girl's downy-soft hair and inhaled the soft scent with a dreamy sigh. In all the many years she had been with Vanil, she had borne him no children. Ashalle had been bitter at first, but time had softened it into resignation. The tiny bundle in her arms sparked a hope she had thought long dead. "Vanil and I can care for her. He always wanted a daughter."

Marethari's eyes ran over Ashalle's face, flat and unreadable, and Ashalle clung to the babe, praying the Creators would grant her this one wish. "You cannot claim her as your daughter, but you may care for her if you wish. The clan will assist whenever you need. The responsibility lies with all of us."

"Thank you, Keeper." Ashalle hugged the girl close and smiled as Marethari turned away. The infant nuzzled at Ashalle's breast and made a soft huffing noise. "Elin." The girl lazily opened her eyes at Ashalle and went cross-eyed as she tried to focus. The child was beautiful and perfect; the child was _hers_.

* * *

><p>"Elin! Where have you been?" Ashalle sighed heavily and gave Elin a stern look.<p>

Elin held up one hand and tried to keep the excitement from her face. "Look!" The rabbit had been tricky to catch, but in the end she had gotten the trap right. Warm, sticky blood ran down her arm, but Elin did not mind. It made her feel like a real hunter.

"Oh _da'len_, I didn't know you were out trapping." Ashalle took the rabbit and drew her belt knife. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you." Elin's shoulders slumped a little when Ashalle sighed. She never meant to worry Ashalle. "And I didn't know if I would catch anything."

Ashalle leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Elin's head. "Thank you for the rabbit, _da'len_. Just tell me next time you'll be gone so long. Vanil was ready to send the hunters after you." Ashalle flipped the rabbit on its back and slid the knife down the belly. "Now, go tell him you returned safely. And then wash up so you can help with dinner." Ashalle gutted the rabbit in a few casual, easy gestures as she spoke.

Elin nodded absently as she watched the deliberate movements of Ashalle's knife. The skin separated cleanly from shiny grey sinew and deep red muscle under the precise strokes of Ashalle's blade. Elin's fingers twitched as she tried to commit the movements to memory. "Can you teach me to do that?"

Ashalle's smooth movements stopped. "Go tell Vanil quickly, and I'll wait."

Elin grinned. "_Ma serannas_. I'll hurry!" She bounded out the door, imagining her legs as swift and strong as a halla.

* * *

><p>Merrill stared into the fire, knees drawn to her chest. Her new Keeper was so serious, and there was so much to learn. Merrill was certain she would never remember it all. She felt so small and alone here, and even the forest was strange to her. Marethari's clan was nice, but no one spoke with her much, and she was beginning to feel invisible.<p>

A happy giggle was the only warning Merrill had before a girl tumbled into her. The impact sent Merrill's head spinning.

"_Abelas_! Did I hurt you?" The girl looked down at Merrill, all green eyes and wild blonde hair.

"I'm okay." Merrill felt her cheeks heat as she sat up. She never knew what to say around the new clan, and she so scared of bothering them.

"I'm Elin." The girl smiled and plucked a twig out of Merrill's hair. "Can you play?"

Merrill blinked a few times. "Play? I think so, but I can't go far. Marethari says to say close if she needs me."

Elin stuck out her hand and pulled Merrill to her feet. "We can stay in the camp, then. Master Ilen always has little wooden halla to play with. Come on!" Elin scampered off so suddenly that Merrill nearly tripped trying to keep up.

That night, Merrill crawled into bed with her fingers curled around a tiny wooden halla, and a smile as she drifted off to sleep. She had a friend.

* * *

><p>Moon-shadows hid many things. The deer knew this, but it did not know how. The air was still and carried no scent of predator. Night-birds broke the silence with calls that held no note of urgency of alarm.<p>

Sweet young grass had been pushing its way through the spring-warm soil, and the deer lowered its head to graze. The fresh, crunching greenness of the grass was a joy after a hard winter of bark and twig-tips. The wind shifted and tickled the deer's nose.

_Two-leg_.

The thought was an image more than a word, but two-leg meant death. The deer tensed to leap.

Its knee gave way just before it felt the pain and the hot trickle of blood that spilled to the ground. Only then did it realize the night birds had gone quiet. The deer's heartbeat and the sound of two running feet were all the deer could hear. Another jolt of pain and it struggled and collapsed again. Its heartbeat was wild, and breath was lost to it.

Strange paws grasped under its chin and something sharp cut into its neck, drawing the blood out like a stream. The deer blinked at the two-leg that held it and struggled one last time before it died.

* * *

><p>Tamlen strode into the clearing and put his hands on his hips. "Lucky shot again?"<p>

Elin glanced up at him, calm and cool-eyed as she worked the knots of the make-shift sled. "Where's your deer?"

He felt his cheeks go hot as he squatted near the carcass. He had let his footsteps grow careless, and his deer had run. "I let it get away."

She cocked her head to the side and the corners of her mouth nearly twitched into a smile. "Did you, now?"

Tamlen stuck his tongue out at Elin and was rewarded with a laugh. "We should go. It's nearly dawn."

"Help me carry it back to camp, and I'll share." Elin's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Of course, _lethallan_." He knew she would share regardless of his help, but he was happy to give it. They would do much more than carry prey for each other. It was the way of the Dalish, and of friends

* * *

><p><em>Many thanks to and LJ user xogs, as well as my husband, for providing beta services! This story will update on a MWF schedule until complete.<em>


	2. Sulevin'din Shiral

The _shemlen_ were all wide eyed, and none were armed with more than a belt knife. One had lost control of his bladder, and Elin wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell of urine. They were no threat.

She relaxed her bow and nodded to Tamlen."Let them go, _lethallin_. Their only crime is stupidity."

Forest birds chirped and called while the _shemlen_ mumbled quiet prayers to their Maker, and Tamlen held his bowstring taut. Finally, wood creaked and Tamlen jerked his head sharply. "Go, then, before I change my mind."

One of the _shemlen_ began to cry. "Oh, thank you ser. You're so kind, I –"

"Go!" Tamlen started towards the men and one of them gave a low, wavering moan as he turned to flee.

When the _shemlen_ had disappeared from sight, Tamlen turned to her, eyes hard. "They'll just bring more."

Elin returned his gaze with a hard frown. "And if we had killed them and others had found out?"

His stare faltered and he raised a hand to his face. "_Shemlen_ took everything from us."

Elin stepped forward and touched Tamlen's arm. "_Hamin, Tamlen_.Not those _shemlen_. _Elvhen nan din'reth_. We should tell the Keeper." For once, the thought of a move did not bother Elin. The forest here was thick and wild, and while game was plentiful, the wolves and bears were the most dangerous and aggressive in her memory. It was not safe to linger at the edge of camp once the sun had set.

"The _shemlen_ mentioned a cave."

Elin studied Tamlen. He had that _look_ that meant they were going to do something very impressive or very stupid. She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, they did."

Tamlen went wide-eyed and innocent-looking. "Don't look at me like that, you're too serious. What if there's something useful or valuable? We should go look."

"And if I say we should get the Keeper?"

"Then I say you have no sense of adventure." Tamlen grinned. "Come on, we'll look quickly."

Elin let out a deep breath and nodded. "All right, but – Hey! Wait!" Tamlen bounded ahead of her, laughing. She raced after him, unable to stop the smile that spread over her face.

* * *

><p>Elin bolted upright, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. The dream of caves and dead that walked had felt so real. She shivered and rubbed at her arms.<p>

She ran shaking fingers through her hair and tried to steady her breath. It was just a nightmare. It had to be. Nothing like that could be real.

A sudden tap on the door of the_ aravel_ made her jump. "Elin? Are you awake, _lethallan_?"

Elin's pulse fluttered and she tried to catch her breath. "Merrill? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you." The door opened and sunlight spilled into the _aravel_. Merrill clambered in, brow furrowed with worry. "You've been so sick Marethari thought she was going to lose you." Merrill pressed cool fingers to Elin's forehead. "You're still a bit warm, but it's nothing like it was." Merrill wrapped her in a tight hug and rocked back and forth. "Oh, I'm so glad! Everyone has been waiting for you to wake."

Elin shook her head and grasped at memories that seemed to slip through her fingers. "What happened? How long have I been asleep?" Her mind was racing. There had been frightened _shemlen_, and a cave with a strange, twisted mirror. Everything beyond that was a confused haze of voices and blurred images. "Where's Tamlen?"

Merrill pulled away away and toyed with a metal ring on her robes. "A _shemlen_, a _dorf'mi_, found you and brought you here. You were so sick and feverish; Marethari thought you wouldn't make it. I was up with her, trying to heal you, but I'm not very good, and worse," Merrill glanced back to Elin, her green eyes wet, "we don't know where Tamlen is. We hoped you knew."

Elin shook her head in disbelief. "We were in a cave. I know where it is." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I need to tell the Keeper. We have to go back." She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs didn't want to stand, and the ground seemed to ripple beneath her.

Merrill managed to catch her before she fell. "I'll tell the Keeper you're up once I get you something to eat. Just… stay here and don't get in trouble. Promise me?" Her friend's voice was all but pleading.

Elin nodded absently. "Promise."

The door clattered behind Merrill and Elin was alone again. Her breaths grew shallow and sharp, and panic clawed its way up her throat. Tamlen could be hurt and alone, and the ruins were dangerous.

He could be dead.

The thought made her breath hitch, and she looked to the ceiling as tears ran down her face. _Creators save him._

* * *

><p>"No, don't destroy it! We could learn so much. There's so little of our history left, <em>please<em>." Merrill ached to examine the mirror, to touch it, to study it. She could feel the power the mirror held, and it called to her. Something about it made her blood hum, like it _knew_ she was Dalish.

The Grey Warden shook his head and blocked her path to the mirror. "It is tainted. If it stays whole it will continue to draw darkspawn and infect any who get too close. Your friend is still sick, and another of your clanmates has gone missing." His voice was calm, almost soothing, but his sword was already drawn.

Merrill looked to Elin for support, but her friend's face was pale and a thin sheet of sweat covered her forehead. Merrill's hands balled up in frustration. "Please, _no_!"

The Grey Warden shook his head. "I am sorry."

He lifted his sword and swung at the mirror. The shatter was deafening and dozens of pieces scattered across the floor. Merrill slumped as she felt the power waver and burst. An invaluable key to the past, _gone_.

"The darkspawn won't be drawn here any longer." The Grey Warden nodded towards the door. "Shall we go?"

"No." Elin's voice was low and hoarse. "No. We haven't found Tamlen. I'm not leaving until I find him."

Merrill nodded slowly. "We were sent to find him."

"Your friend is gone. He has been sick with no healing for days. I have seen no body, and the darkspawn could have –" the Grey Warden cleared his throat. "If there was something to find, it would be here."

Elin bristled. "You don't know that! He was a skilled hunter, a skilled fighter. He could protect himself."

The Grey Warden shifted and gave a short sigh. "And if he was unconscious like you have been? Is he so great a fighter that he can do so sick and asleep?"

Merrill's breath caught in her throat as Elin lunged toward the Grey Warden.

He caught Elin's wrists easily. She struggled against him, and gave a weak kick at one of his shins. The _shemlen_ winced, but held his ground. Merrill looked between the two of them and drew on her magic, watching and waiting. She didn't know how to make it stop, but she knew it would be _her_ fault if either was hurt.

"Let me go! I have to, I must, I –" Elin shook her head frantically. "Please."

The Grey Warden gently released Elin, and she sank to the ground with quiet sobs.

"Oh no, please don't cry." Merrill rushed to Elin's side. "Tamlen wouldn't want that." She cupped Elin's face in one hand and gently wiped away the tears. "And we have to tell the Keeper what we saw. You're one of the _Elvhen_, Elin. Your blood is strong."

Elin nodded against Merrill's palm and let out wavering sigh. "_Abelas_." Elin scrambled to her feet and clenched her jaw so tightly Merrill was certain her teeth would break. "I will try."

Merrill gave a half-hearted smile and patted Elin's arm. "There, it's all right to have tears now and then." The thought of the mirror was enough to make her weep, but Elin needed her now. Merrill would mourn that loss later. "Come along, we shouldn't keep Marethari waiting."

The walk back to camp was silent.

* * *

><p>"Keeper, please. Don't ask me to do this. I want to stay with the clan." Elin's eyes were wild, and her voice began to crack. "How can I help the clan if I am away?<p>

Marethari shook her head and steeled herself for what must come. "_Abelas_ _da'len, _but you must help us by joining the Grey Wardens. Fight with them and you protect us." No matter what the old treaties said, giving one of her own to the Wardens felt like cutting off a limb. It was only made worse by Tamlen's disappearance. "I can't let you die when the Wardens can save you."

Elin closed her eyes tightly and said nothing for a long time as tears streaked down her face.

"_Da'len_." Marethari touched Elin's arm. "You must do this."

Elin nodded stiffly, but it was easy to see the tremble in her lips. "If… if it is for the good of the clan, then I will go."

Duncan stepped forward and gave a short bow. "Then may I be the first to welcome you to the Grey Wardens, Elin. The few Dalish who have served in the order have served well. We have great respect for your people."

Marethari nodded, hoping Elin would find comfort in the words. Of all the _shemlen_ she had met, Duncan was the one Marethari trusted. He had always been respectful of the clans. "You must leave us, but our blood will always be yours. May Mythal protect you, wherever you may walk. _Dareth shiral_."

"_Ma nuvenin_, Keeper." Elin's tone was flat against an angry expression, and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides..

The anger cut Marethari to the core. Even as a Grey Warden, most _shemlen_ would see her as nothing more than an elf. The world that Elin must go to would not be kind, or safe, and Duncan could only shield her from so much.

It was such things that were a Keeper's burden, and she must keep her people alive, even if it meant losing them. The blood of the _Elvhen_ was precious.

* * *

><p>Elin slid her knife between muscle and skin, cleanly parting one from the other. It was a task she had completed a thousand times, and the familiar movements allowed her a few moments of peace. She could nearly pretend she was back at camp, and that Tamlen and Merrill would be there when she looked up. She frowned. It was a foolish thought.<p>

"Is something wrong?" Duncan's voice was calm and even.

Something about the question put her on edge. Duncan knew what was wrong, or he thought he did, but he could not understand. "No."

Duncan let out a long sigh. "I know you don't want to be here, but you _are_ here. Sitting around sulking won't change anything, and it makes you a rather unpleasant travelling companion."

The words shamed her. The _shemlen_ had been nothing but kind to her, and she had returned his kindness with quiet anger. He had done nothing wrong. "_Abelas_, Duncan. I have not been myself. _Ma serannas_. I am grateful you saved my life."

"You have been through much these past days. How are you?" His tone was sincere and worried, and the kindness made her ache for her clan.

Elin skillfully parted the last bit of skin from the rabbit and gently laid the pelt aside. "Sad." She did not know how to tell him that her breath hitched when she thought of Tamlen. She did not know how to tell him that tears threatened to overwhelm her when the air was still and quiet, because she expected Merrill's happy chatter to fill the silence. She did not know how to tell him that she was hurt and angry and lonely.

She did not know how to tell him these things, so she did not.

"And your sickness?" Duncan's brow furrowed and he half-closed his eyes. "I can still sense it, but you still seem strong."

She wiped her forehead with the back of a hand and scowled when she found it damp. "Still sick." With luck, he did not see the way her hands trembled after hours of walking, or notice that her breathing grew more strained as the days passed.

Duncan pushed the coals into a long, narrow line with a stick. "Many of the recruits leave everyone they know when they join. The Wardens become their friends, as well as their family." Duncan blew lightly on the coals and motioned towards the rabbit. "Give them a chance."

The thought was almost impossible. She had been told there was not another woman among them, much less an elf. But Duncan was reasonable, respectful. He fought well. He had saved her when he had no care for who she was. If the others were like him, maybe there was a chance. _Maybe_. "I will try."

His fingers were deft as he trussed the rabbit to a long, straight stick. "That's all I ask."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always, to xogs for the beta and feedback!<em>


	3. Him Dorf'mi

The sound of armored boots drew Duncan's attention to a shining, golden figure. He cringed involuntarily. _Maker, why now?_ Elin had been less prickly since he had spoken to her, but she hardly knew what was expected around royalty.

Cailan was all excited smiles and bright eyes as he approached. "Duncan! It is good to see you again, old friend."

"Your Majesty," Duncan bowed his head, "this is an honor."

"I'm glad you're back! And I see you've brought a new recruit. We heard you had found someone. I am King Cailan." The boy – Duncan could not help but think of Cailan in that way – grinned at Elin and held out his hand.

Elin rose one eyebrow quizzically at the gesture and took a slow step back. "I am Elin Mahariel, of the Sabrae clan. I am one of the Dalish, and I am free." The words were delivered fiercely, and her eyes never left Cailan's outstretched palm.

Duncan nearly swallowed his tongue. She hadn't said so many words at once since they had left her clan. The sudden outburst was enough to make him reconsider his lack of devotion. If the Maker did exist, this moment was punishment for Duncan's laxity.

"One of the Dalish!" Cailan brightened even more, blue eyes widening. "I have heard tales of your people's bravery. The Wardens must be pleased to have you."

The elf gave a slow nod, features still uncertain. "Yes."

Laughter burst from the king's lips. "You didn't tell me she had a sense of humor, Duncan! I must go before Loghain frowns at me again, but I should like to talk before the battle. There is much to discuss."

Cailan chattered amicably at his guards as they returned to the camp.

Duncan let out a breath he didn't remember holding. It was over.

Elin shifted and cleared her throat loudly. "I am not funny."

"What?" Duncan looked to her and found her glowering at Cailan's retreating back.

"I am not funny." Elin pronounced each word in short, clipped syllables.

Duncan shook his head. "No, you're not. You'd have to actually _talk_ to be funny."

Elin frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I talk."

There was nothing to do but sigh. "As you say. Come, there is much to prepare."

* * *

><p>"Maker's ass, woman, do you have to do that <em>every<em> time?" Daveth's voice was high pitched and strained as he wiped at his blood-covered face in vain.

Alistair tried not to smile. Elin had a knack for catching Daveth in a bloody spray whenever she slit a darkspawn's throat. Alistair had quit counting after five.

Elin stared at Daveth impassively. "The opportunity came to kill, so I did."

The expression on Daveth's face grew furious and he loomed over Elin. "That doesn't explain why you keep getting me and not the others!"

"Alistair and Jory _kill_ their quarry. You maim it." Elin shrugged calmly, as though she were talking to a page in training. "It needs to be dead."

"Why you smart-mouthed little – " Daveth moved to grab Elin's arm.

She stepped out of the way and had Daveth flat on his back before Alistair could blink. She firmly planted her knee at the base of Daveth's spine and twisted his hand back until the man yelped.

"All right, I yield!"

Elin lingered a moment longer than Alistair thought was absolutely necessary, before she stood and left Daveth cringing and cradling his hand.

Alistair tried to stop the grin that tugged at his mouth as he helped Daveth to his feet. "It'll wash off. Eventually. Except where it stains."

Daveth muttered under his breath and turned to gather arrows from the darkspawn.

"You don't have to be so harsh on him, you know." Jory looked at Alistair with big, baleful eyes, and Alistair was suddenly reminded of a cow.

"Nah, it's good for him." Alistair gave Jory a good-natured slap on the back. "And besides, she has a point."

* * *

><p>Daveth fell to his knees, fingernails clawing at his throat. Elin stared in horror as he collapsed and drew one last, rattling breath. The death was so sudden and unexpected that Elin could only stare.<p>

"Jory, you are next in the Joining." Duncan's voice was empty and emotionless. His dark eyes, which had been so warm and welcoming until this moment, held no mercy.

Steel rasped as Jory drew his sword. The man stumbled away from the outstretched cup until his back met the stone wall. "You can't do this. My wife is with child." The man's eyes were wide, and his voice wavered.

"There is no turning back, Jory." Duncan drew the dagger at his hip. "You cannot leave."

Fear gripped Elin the moment Jory swung. Duncan parried the blow easily and threw the other man off balance. There was a glimmer of steel before he plunged his dagger deep into Jory's belly.

Jory gaped in disbelief over Duncan's shoulder, and his large eyes settled on Elin. She stood frozen in place, barely able to draw breath as her panic mounted

"I am sorry, Jory." Regret filled Duncan's tone as he pushed Jory from his blade and the dead man fell to the stones with a heavy thump.

Elin stared in horror as Duncan took the cup again and started toward her. "Elin, you are the last in the Joining." Duncan stalked towards her, cup outstretched "Submit yourself to the Taint."

The blood rushed in her ears and her heart pounded frantically in her chest. The cold night air made her skin prickle, and she felt _alive_.

But she felt more than that. She felt the haze of fever and the tremble in her limbs. Her blood seemed to itch beneath her skin, and at night her dreams were filled with whispers. She had come here to live.

Elin took the cup and drank.

* * *

><p>"Alistair, down!"<p>

Battlefield instinct took over and Alistair dropped to one knee. There was a soft _thuck_ and a genlock shrieked loudly around the arrow lodged in its throat.

A hurlock rushed Alistair, and he lunged at it as best as he could, shield arm braced. The impact jarred his shoulder, but the hurlock stumbled back. Another arrow whizzed past and pierced the creature's chest. The brief opening was all Alistair needed, and one swift blow slit the hurlock from neck to navel.

He could still sense darkspawn in the Tower, and the horde on the battlefield made his stomach churn, but there was nothing nearby.

Elin slipped past him silently and placed a boot on one of the downed hurlocks.

Alistair smiled at her. "Thanks."

She tugged at the first arrow and it squelched as she pulled it free. Bits of darkspawn flesh clung to the arrowhead, and she wiped it clean on the creature's filthy tunic.

Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "Right." Duncan had warned him she might be a little quieter than he was used to. "Shall we go?"

Elin grunted as she wrenched the other arrow and examined it with a frown. "Useless." She snapped the arrow in two and tossed the halves aside. "Lead on."

Alistair nodded towards the Tower. She followed him closely, footsteps silent against the stones. Duncan had not been entirely truthful. "A little quiet" implied she made _some_ noise, but her movement gave Alistair the distinct impression he was being followed by a short, deadly ghost.

He bit back another sigh. At least she was on his side.

* * *

><p>The wind left Elin's lungs, and there was a sickening sound-sensation of cracking bone. The ogre's attention was fully on her, now. The mage they had collected was dead, and Elin's small stash of elf root was gone. She struggled to push herself to her feet, but the pain only sharpened until her vision edged black.<p>

She gripped her daggers in blood-slick hands and drew pained breaths through clenched teeth. She had not come all this way to die without a fight.

The ogre suddenly stiffened and let out a deafening roar. The creature turned away from her, steps stumbling as it did.

"Come on! Over here, you ugly lout." Alistair was crouched defensively, shield at the ready. The ogre shambled towards Alistair as its large, powerful arms swung wildly.

Elin struggled again and managed to get to her knees. Sweat dripped down her face as she struggled to reach her bow.

The guard that had joined them burst from the shadows. The man rushed the ogre from behind and sunk his sword into the thing's back.

The ogre fell heavily, groaning and writhing on the floor. Alistair clambered on its back and drove his blade into the base of the ogre's skull. The darkspawn twitched once before it fell still.

Elin sank back to the floor, grimacing. Her ribs felt like they were on fire, and every tiny movement was torture, but it was over.

Alistair started toward her. "Are you hurt?"

She began to shake her head before sharp pain stopped her. "Light the signal!"

He hesitated a moment before obeying.

The guard limped over to her and knelt down, drawing strips of bandages from a pouch at his hip. "I don't have much, but binding it should help."

Elin tried to smile. The _shemlen_ were not all so bad as she had feared. "Thank you."

The door burst open with a loud bang, and the guard's throat split open in a spray of red. Elin blinked through a bloody mask as he slumped forward with a gurgle, too shocked to move.

The air was thick with arrows, and even the dying man's body could not fully protect her. An arrow glanced her throat, and another hit just above her heart. A thump shook her body, and her breath suddenly felt wet and heavy.

The last thing Elin saw was Alistair's limp, unmoving body.

* * *

><p>Alistair shivered miserably. The cold of the wilds had settled into his bones and refused to leave. Waiting outside the house only made it worse, but the old woman insisted Elin needed quiet and rest. The way she had said it made it all-too clear that he was an unacceptable disruption. Alistair huffed. He was perfectly capable of sitting quietly by a fire. When he had said this, Morrigan had burst into laughter before the old woman could reply.<p>

The cottage door creaked and Alistair looked up hopefully.

"What are you staring at?" Morrigan's yellow eyes glared at him.

"Oh it's you." Alistair hunched his shoulders and tried to ignore her scowl. "I was hoping for someone else."

Morrigan let out a heavy sigh. "Well, she's awake, so you can stop moping."

Alistair's head snapped up and his tiny shred of hope seemed to swell. "Wait, she's up? Can I see her? Is she –"

The door creaked again and Elin stepped into the weak sunlight. She was pale and her face looked drawn, but she was _alive_.

"Maker, I can't believe it." Alistair had nearly given up on her. "Everyone else is dead, I thought I'd lost you too." He stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alive."

Elin was stiff in his arms, but he was too happy to care. He had not been left alone.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks again to beta xogs!<em>


	4. Suledin Sahlin

_The dragon stared at her with dead white eyes. She yearned to find it and follow._

_The dragon lifted its head and let out a deafening roar, but it was _more _than that. There was a song inside it, a call that tugged at her blood. The song twisted inside her, enticing her until the breaths she drew were ragged and uncontrolled. The song peaked and she threw her head back with a soft cry._

_Tamlen, his face mottled grey and purple, stared down at her with cold, dead eyes. Elin began to scream._

* * *

><p>"Tamlen!"<p>

Elin jolted awake, hands twisted into the blankets. Her pulse was wild and she sucked desperately at the night air. Every breath she drew felt like fire.

"Bad dreams?" Alistair sat near the fire, staring into the flames.

Elin swallowed hard and ran a shaking hand over her face. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and tried to calm her shaking breaths. "Yes." Her throat was dry and her voice rasped. "It was so real."

"It's not really a dream, not for Wardens." Alistair sat back with a heavy sigh. "It's the Archdemon. It calls to the horde and we hear it."

The words twisted Elin's stomach. It had to be the blood. It had killed Daveth and saved her, and Jory had died for refusing to drink. Marethari had always warned the Dalish of the power to be found in blood. She should have listened.

Elin swallowed hard. "The Joining."

"Yes. I know it seems… terrible, but we have to do it. It lets us sense them; it makes us stronger, so we can hunt them." Alistair fell silent for a few moments. "But we can't have children, and the blood is still poisonous, it just works more slowly. Neither of us have more than thirty years left."

Anger surged inside her. "Why didn't Duncan tell me? Or my Keeper? She didn't send me here to die."

"He couldn't tell you. He did what he had to." Alistair scrambled to his feet and shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, he's dead. What do you care?"

Elin flinched. "_Abelas_. I didn't mean to offend." She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. "He was kind to me."

Alistair stooped to his bedroll and began to fold the blankets. "Who is Tamlen?"

"My friend." Elin's chest tightened. Tamlen was more than that. He had been clever and strong and skilled. She had trusted him with any secret and every doubt. He was the brother she had never had, and she missed him terribly. "We were close."

"Is he with your clan, still?"

Elin watched Alistair's movements. Crease and fold, crease and fold. "He is dead." It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and they left her feeling hollow.

"Oh." Alistair's hands faltered. "I didn't know."

They packed the camp in silence.

* * *

><p>Alistair and Morrigan were squabbling again. Elin rubbed her temples and tried to make out the thin, swirling lines that looked more like flowers than letters. Merrill had taught her to read Common, but those letters had been clear and blocky.<p>

"Well,_ I_ do not smell like I stepped out of a dog pen."

"At least _I'm_ not an utter _bitch_."

"Very original, Alistair. Did you think that up all by yourself? I hope you did not strain yourself over much."

Elin slapped the treaties against her thigh. "Stop it." They had snipped at each other endlessly since breaking camp.

Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and gave Elin an amused look. "So you _do_ talk."

"Hush." Elin stood and held out the papers. "Can you read this?"

Alistair opened his mouth, but Elin glared at him. His teeth clicked shut and he hunched his shoulders with a low grumble.

For all the complaints, the other two seemed to look to _her _for guidance The thought made her stomach flutter; she had never even led a large hunt, or a scouting party. She was too impatient to lead. She knew nothing about being a Warden. _Elgar'nan help me, how am I supposed to stop a Blight when I can't get two people to stop arguing?_

"The treaties look simple enough." Morrigan leafed through the pages slowly. "If the Wardens request aid for a Blight, it will be honored." The woman shrugged and handed the pages back.

Alistair edged toward Elin. "Then where do we go first?"

Elin lifted her hands in frustration. "I don't know. I don't even know where things are." Her people had little need for maps; they knew the forest paths well, and moved when game became scarce.

"I know the way to Eamon's. He could help us." Alistair rocked back on his heels.

Elin sighed and nodded. The southern forests would not be easy to travel for months yet, and the hunting would be poor. She would have to find the Dalish when the weather allowed. "How long will it take?" Their food was running low, and the quick pace had kept her from hunting as they travelled.

"I'm… not really sure." The other Warden looked a bit sheepish. "It's been a long time since I was on the road, but Redcliffe is well known. There are always signs along the road for big towns or castles like that."

Morrigan snorted. "What a grand idea. Let us follow _Alistair's_ plans."

Elin glowered and pressed on through the trees while the two followed, exchanging short, clipped insults as they went.

* * *

><p>Sten opened his eyes to find an elf peering up at him. He had forgotten how small they could be. When he had still possessed the strength, he had startled those who stared too long, but that time was days' past. "Leave me, elf. I am not here to amuse you."<p>

"What _are_ you?" The elf's green eyes were sharp.

"I am Sten, of the _beresaad_. I am qunari." The words were a lie without _Asala_ in his hand, but this _bas_ would not know better.

"Wonder what he did to end up in there." The blonde human looked at Sten warily.

"The Revered Mother said he killed an entire family." It was the red-haired priest, who had brought him water each night. Her eyes were as blue as the seas of Seheron and filled with pity.

"Is this true?" The elf ran a finger along the lock that held him captive.

Sten nodded once. "Yes."

The blonde man laughed nervously. "Well, that settles that! We're not so desperate as to stoop to recruiting heartless murders, right Elin?"

The elf cocked her head and peered at the lock.

"Elin?" The man's voice was almost a plea.

"Would you fight for me, Sten?" The elf tapped the lock and met his gaze.

The desire for purpose burned inside him, but he feared becoming _Tal'Vashoth_. "Your cause?"

The elf gave a grim smile. "The Blight."

This was unexpected. "Then you are Grey Wardens." They were less impressive than Sten had hoped, but it was nothing less than what he had expected from this cursed country.

The elf nodded towards the blonde man. "We are. Will you fight?"

The purpose was good and true. The purpose would give him an answer for the Arishok. He would hold a sword in his hand and serve the _Qun_. "Yes."

* * *

><p>Alistair's shield lashed out unexpectedly, hitting Elin's shoulder. She hissed at the jarring pan that ran through her arm. The shield was solid oak and hard enough to bruise. He moved to swing, but she parried, slowing his blade along the curve of her dagger. His balance wavered and she moved for the kill.<p>

The shield blocked her again and she danced back. He was slow to swing, but she could _not_ get through his shield.

Elin dropped into a crouch and began to circle. Alistair watched her warily, shield tucked close and low. It had always been easy to goad Tamlen into attacking her, but Alistair had fallen for none of her tricks.

"Dinner's ready!" Leliana's accent made the words sound like a song.

Alistair relaxed and moved to sheath his sword. There was an opening in his defense, and Elin lunged.

Even with the advantage, she barely managed the killing blow. Three days of fruitless sparring and she had finally gained a victory.

"That wasn't fair." Alistair frowned at the dagger pressed to his splintmail.

Elin shook her head. "We never agreed to stop."

Alistair blinked. "Well, no, we didn't."

She stepped back and tapped her dagger against his shield. "I won."

He laughed. "Well it took you long enough. Duncan would have me flat on my back in half a dozen moves."

Elin gave a small nod. The few times she had sparred with Duncan had inspired nothing but doubt in her abilities. "Tell me about him."

Alistair let out a soft sigh and shrugged. "I met him six months ago. I was given to the Chantry when I was young, and had been training to be a Templar. I liked the training, and the books they gave us, but I hated all the rules and the praying and chanting." He gave a small laugh. "They never liked my sense of humor either."

"Anyways, Duncan came to recruit a Templar, and he picked me. I wasn't the best, but he petitioned the Grand Cleric herself to take me anyway. I guess he saw something." Alistair smiled a little. "And I became a Grey Warden. I never knew my father, but Duncan felt like one." The smile dropped and Alistair kicked at the dirt. He let out a loud breath and shook his head. "I still can't believe he's gone."

Elin nodded and tried to push away the thoughts of her clan before they overwhelmed her. "I know."

"I guess you would. He and the Grey Wardens were the only family I ever really had." Alistair let out a long sigh. "I wish he could have had a proper funeral, you know?"

"I – we never found Tamlen, but we sang for him." The evening air seemed to cool on her skin, and she shivered.

Alistair touched her shoulder lightly. "Has it been long?"

She swallowed hard. "Twelve days before Duncan." It had been twenty-five days since she had left her clan, twenty-eight since she had last seen Tamlen. She needed to stop thinking about such things, but when she counted how many days it took to travel, those few extra numbers seemed to add themselves.

Alistair's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Elin. Maker, I feel like an ass, now."

Elin looked up. "Why?"

"Look at you." He gestured. "You've been going at it, all stoic and commanding, and I spent a week moping around feeling sorry for myself. You've had as much to upset you as I have, if not more." Alistair let out a huffing laugh. "Maker, but I'm glad you're with me. I'd have made a mess of the whole thing already."

Gratitude was the last thing she had expected from a _shemlen_, and the words made her smile. "_Ma serranas_."

Alistair grinned. "Ah, so you _do_ smile. And speak Elvish! Wonders never cease."

Elin winced. The Elvish seemed to run away from her around him. "Forgive me. I said 'thank you.'"

He shrugged casually. "I figured. Now, can we eat?" He sheathed his sword. "I'm starving."

She nodded towards the fire and ignored the gnawing hunger in her gut. "Go ahead. I need to set traps before it gets too dark." The dried meat they had bought was too scarce to last them to Redcliffe, and there was little game along the road.

Alistair nodded and jogged towards the stew pot, where the others had already gathered.

Elin lingered a few moments before she turned to the tall, pale green grasses along the road. The rabbits would make trails in the delicate grass, and her traps would snare them when they returned to their burrows.

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand." Elin cocked her head to the side and frowned.<p>

Confusion was not the reaction Alistair had expected. "Don't understand what?"

"Why does your father matter? You are not him." She looked nothing short of bewildered.

That had been made abundantly clear when he was younger. Alistair was not royal, and he should not get ideas about ruling or anything else. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Look, it matters to humans. When a ruler dies, their oldest child is supposed to take their place. But my father and mother weren't married, so I'm not," Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, "fit to rule."

Elin's expression suddenly brightened. "Ah, I see. That explains Cailan."

"Yes. Wait, what?" Alistair was fairly certain there was an insult buried beneath the pleasantly lilting way of speech. Elin stared at him placidly. He cleared his throat. "Anyways, that's it. Just keep thinking of me as the idiot who managed not to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

She crossed her arms and gave him an unhappy look. "And what of me?"

"You're why we have a chance." He was not proud of the way he had acted after Ostagar, and thinking about it still made him angry. The small bit of hope he had lay in Elin. The mere thought of leading terrified him.

Her green eyes searched his face a moment before she spoke. "You aren't an idiot."

Alistair laughed nervously. The last time a woman complimented him, she had gotten grabby. He was never setting foot inside the Pearl again. _Ever_. "I'm not so sure, but thanks."

Elin shook her head and muttered something he couldn't understand.

He decided it was for the better.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks to xogs for betaing!<em>


	5. Isala Sa'Falon

Arrows flew thick as the corpses staggered from the darkness. The iron heads clattered uselessly against bone, but the men of the village continued to fire. Elin wondered how any of them had managed to survive. .

Her daggers were hardly more effective; the blades slid off the exposed bones. The only thing that seemed to kill them was a smashed skull.

Elin ducked under a clumsy swing and slashed at the creature's knees. It stumbled forward and fell. She stepped towards it and kicked at its head. The skull crunched under the heel of her boot.

"No more arrows! Crush their skulls!" Elin's voice was lost in the din of battle, and none of Redcliffe's men obeyed. She let out a frustrated cry and lashed out at another corpse as it staggered towards her.

"Bows down! Get out your weapons and go for the head!" Murdock's rough voice cut through the confusion of groans and yells.

The men were slow to obey at first, but as they picked up swords and maces they began to regain ground.

After what felt like hours, the last corpse fell. The men still left standing let out a few weary cheers.

Elin wiped the sweat and blood from her brow and stared at the castle across the lake.

* * *

><p>The light on the water made her head ache, and the nasty hit she had taken from Teagan did little to help.<p>

A large shadow blocked the sun. "This is a diversion."

Elin pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "It is not."

"We wasted time at the village, and now we waste time saving a boy." Sten let out a loud, disapproving huff. "We are supposed to be ending the Blight."

"We have treaties with the mages. This is quicker than walking" She could forgive the qunari's lack of faith so long as he continued to follow.

"And what if they do no honor them? They are mages, little better than animals. I am not impressed, Warden."

Elin looked up to find Sten glowering at her with those odd violet eyes. "I care little about impressing you." She had a duty to her clan, even if the Keeper had sent her away. She would fight darkspawn to keep them safe.

Sten grunted in a way that was nearly a growl. "That much is clear."

Elin closed her eyes again and focused on the comforting rock of the boat. The back and forth movement felt much like an _aravel,_ and the creaking of wood deepened the familiar sensation. It almost felt like home.

* * *

><p>Alistair could sense the thinness of the veil and the distant hum of power in the levels above. The Tower itself made the hairs on his neck stand on end. If he were perfectly honest with Elin, he would admit preferring to stay on this side of the massive iron doors that led to the rest of the Tower.<p>

Despite Greagoir's annoyed protests, she had not been swayed. "I have a treaty."

Every crease in Greagoir's face deepened in dismay as he towered over Elin. "They have killed most of my men. You would recruit them as allies?"

"Yes." The evenness in Elin's tone unnerved Alistair.

Greagoir sighed heavily and shook his head. "Can you at least tell me why?"

"I fight the Blight. I need the strongest army." Elin opened her mouth as if she were going to continue, but she suddenly stopped as Greagoir's face grew dark.

Alistair knew why she wanted the mages over the Templars: the mages had proven stronger.

The chill that spread along Alistair's skin had nothing to do with magic.

* * *

><p>"Stop acting like a child. Is this not what you want? To think the world is safe?" The thing that was not Duncan smiled at her, but there was no life in its eyes.<p>

"No. _Halam sahlin_." Elin drew her blades and hoped the thing was less skilled than the true Duncan had been.

The lifeless eyes glittered dangerously. "Then you will die."

* * *

><p>Elin scrubbed away the tears that stung her eyes as Leliana disappeared. Massive statues twisted and turned back on themselves in fractured pieces that shattered her sense of direction. The landscape shimmered at the edges of her vision and everything was cast in a sickly yellow pallor that made her skin crawl. It was worse when she had to shift shape. She was too large or too small, and the sudden rush of magic in the tall, thin body shocked her to the core. The power was wild and nearly uncontrollable, and she had only the slightest half-rotted memory of how it could be used.<p>

Worst still were the others' dream traps. Each time she had to pull them away from their pity or their fantasy or their stubbornness. Each time she had to fight. Each time left her shaken and exhausted.

The pedestal shimmered blue as she touched the edges and snaking black lines raced towards the center of the intricate design. A new eight-pointed star shimmered in the center. The delicate glyphs ringing the star pulsed as though they were alive.

Elin touched a finger to the final star.

The Fade shifted.

* * *

><p>Alistair sipped at his ale and sighed happily. The inn was small, but the food was good, and it was better than spending the night at the Tower while the mages prepared for Connor's ritual. The silvers spent would be more than worth it. Alistair stretched and found himself glad they had a night on real beds.<p>

"Care for another drink?" The dwarf serving him smiled.

Alistair shook his head. "Nah, I've had plenty. Going to get a bit of fresh air." The common room was hot and loud, and the regulars grumbled as they squeezed in around strangers.

He stepped out the door to find the moon rising over the smooth, glassy surface of the lake. The Tower was outlined prettily in the silvery light and he could almost forget the blood-stained chambers inside.

A small figure was crouched near the shore and Alistair moved towards it. As he grew closer, he saw one pointed ear outlined in the moonlight. "Elin?"

She craned her neck to look at him.

Alistair rolled his shoulders and tried to act casually as he moved to sit by her. His memory of the Fade made him blush. "The lake is pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes." She turned her gaze back to the water and drew her knees to her chest.

"Are you okay?" The odd strangeness that had clung to him in the Fade had disappeared shortly after he woke up, but Elin had been pale and drawn even when they left the Tower.

Elin rested her chin on her knees. "I'm fine."

Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair. He did not know how anyone could come through that ordeal without feeling _something_. "I know I'm not Dalish, but I am another Grey Warden. You don't have to hide everything from me." He leaned back on his elbows and sighed. "Are you fine? Really?"

The night air was still for a long while, and Alistair began to wonder if he had pushed too far. He had no idea if he was being rude, or if she would not say anything because he was human, or not serious enough.

"No." Elin stretched out her legs and flexed her feet. "I'm not."

"Do you want to talk?" Alistair regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Elin _never_ wanted to talk.

She shifted a little closer and shrugged. "I – yes." Elin gave him a small half-smile. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks again to beta xogs, especially given her crazy schedulelife 3_


	6. U'vir Din'uth

Elin paced nervously from one end of the room to the other. The stone ceiling felt low and oppressive. The pungent-sweet scent of sickness hung heavy in the air.

Teagan paced the short length of the room. "You need Eamon to gather the nobles. No one else has the same influence aside from Loghain and the Queen, and neither is on your side." He lifted his hands in frustration. "You _must_ do this."

Elin shook her head. "And if he dies while I'm on this errand? The Wardens have two more treaties that guarantee allies. I have no promise from Eamon." The way the _shemlen_ ruled seemed needlessly messy and complex. It was a wonder her people had ever been enslaved by them.

"You've saved his Arling and his family. Why would he –"

"And you want me to go to Denerim. Loghain has power there. What if we are caught?" Alistair had said they would need to go there eventually, but she was in no hurry. Leliana had tried to describe the size, but Elin could not comprehend the appeal of so many stone walls and _shemlen_. Besides, the more Teagan and Isolde spoke, the more the task seemed an impossibly foolish one.

Teagan pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a noisy breath. "Alistair, you talk some sense into her. We can't afford to lose Eamon."

Alistair frowned at Teagan. "Thanks for that. If I get stabbed, I'm bleeding all over your nice tunic." Alistair turned towards the door and motioned for her to follow. "Care to talk outside?"

Elin followed Alistair out of the room and tried to keep her pace steady. Half of her wanted to run until she was well beyond the walls and in the comfort of the forest. The air there was clean, and things did not seem so overwhelming.

She looked to Alistair as the door closed behind them. "I'm not going to stab you."

"Hmm?" He blinked a moment before his eyes widened and he laughed. "Yes, I know. I was just making a joke."

She feigned understanding and tried to smile. It was not a very good joke.

"I know it seems… strange, that one man matters, but he really does." Alistair sighed. "We can't march an army into Denerim and demand the nobles help us. Even _I_ know that will just look like an invasion. We _need_ him, Elin. You have to trust me."

She crossed her arms and studied Alistair a moment. He looked sincere enough, and he certainly knew more about the goings on of _shemlen _lords than she ever hoped to understand. And, as reluctant as she might be to admit it, she did trust him.

"You promise he will help us?" It was not a fair thing to ask, but she needed to hear someone promise something.

Alistair brought a fist to his chest and bowed his head. "I swear it."

Elin did not know what the gesture meant, but it seemed solemn. She sighed heavily and nodded once. "Fine." She would go, but she did not have to be happy about it.

* * *

><p>The Dalish glared at him as she wiped blood from a long, snaking dagger. "How am I supposed to trust you?"<p>

Zevran gave her his best smile. "I would owe you my life. My loyalty is worth more than simple money."

Her hard green eyes narrowed. "You accepted money to kill me."

"Ah, but that was a business arrangement, which has gone badly. I may be a professional, but I know when I am beaten." Zevran could feel the sweat beading on his brow as she continued to frown at him. "You have my word – I will not try and kill you again."

She stared at him a few moments before giving him a curt nod. "I'll kill you if you do." Her tone was calm and sure, and something about it made his throat tighten. "You had better be useful."

Zevran let out relieved breath. "I have many uses, I –"

"Hush." She sheathed her dagger roughly and turned. "Wynne, heal him." The Dalish started toward a body as the other Warden trotted at her heels and protested in low tones..

Zevran slumped and closed his eyes. No more suicide missions for him.

* * *

><p>Elin watched the camp from the trees and sighed.<p>

Sten and Wynne were politely calling each other monsters while Morrigan sulked in her own corner of the camp. The assassin was helping Leliana clean up dinner, all smiles and graciousness. Leliana remained pleasant, but her eyes never left the assassins' hands.

This was not how things had been with the Keeper. Disagreements had been smoothed over; city elves who joined them were watched, but also taught. The Dalish could not afford discord. Elin could afford it even less, but she did not know how to change things. Dalish listened to Keepers because of their training and knowledge, and out of respect for their wisdom. Elin still had not figured out why most of them followed her.

A distant rustle of leaves and low footsteps caught her ears. Elin turned to find Alistair tripping out of the forest with more firewood.

He was nearly on top of her by the time he noticed she was there. "Oh!" He stopped suddenly. "I didn't see you, sorry."

She shook her head. "It's fine." His sweet sort of awkwardness reminded her a little of Merrill, and the thought made her smile.

"D'you need anything?" He peered at her over the edge of a branch.

She ached for company, but she intruded too much as it was. "No."

"If you say so." He shrugged. "Oh, what are the watches tonight?"

"Sten has first. I take second, you have third." Elin had quickly learned how unpleasant it was to try and wake a qunari, though it was only slightly worse than being woken up by one.

"In that case, I'd better get some sleep. See you then!" He resumed the stumbling gait as he struggled to see around the armful of wood.

Elin sighed softly. It was nice to have a friend again.

* * *

><p>Alistair eyed the rows of houses crowded around the center of the marketplace. One of them belonged to his sister. He was tempted to ask to stop, even <em>if<em> Denerim was dangerous. He finally had a chance to have a real family.

The one thing that held him back was Elin. He had never seen her so jumpy or out of place. She was constantly looking over her shoulder and fiddling with the hood of her cloak, hiding her tattoos one minute and showing them the next.

"Genitivi's house is just around the next corner."

Alistair and Elin both jumped at Leliana's voice. The bard had managed to end up between them before either took notice.

Elin's eyes darted over the crowd. "Good." Her voice was high and nervous as she fingered the edge of her cloak. "Let's go."

As they followed Leliana, Alistair sighed. Goldanna would have to wait.

Elin sat on the narrow bed as she picked at a bit of loose threading on one of her boots. The small, stuffy room felt like a trap. If she spent too long thinking about all of the walls between her and the roads she began to panic. _One more day here._

Genitivi's papers were spread on the floor and Leliana poured over them, making fascinated noises every now and then.

Leliana snatched a piece of parchment and stared at it with wide eyes. "Ooh, this is very interesting."

Elin sat forward just a little. "Does it say where Haven is?"

Leliana looked up and sighed. "Will you stop asking me? I promise I'll tell you when I find out."

"Sorry." She felt half-paranoid, expecting Loghain's men to burst in at any moment. The masses of people made her think of ants and hornets and other biting, stinging insects that clustered and swarmed. The sounds were half-buzz and the incessant sensation of movement and sound made her head hurt. Worse still, the food seemed old and tired, and even the water tasted stale and stagnant.

"Why don't you go have a look around the market? It won't be as busy now." Leliana smiled encouragingly.

"I don't –"

Leliana stretched. "You could get a new dagger."

Elin had refused to replace Master Ilen's dagger out of a rare spark of sentiment. One of her _dar'misu_ had been lost at Ostagar, and the one left was chipped in two places. Small, fine cracks had begun to spider along the handle. The _dar'misu_ would not last long; it had not been made for heavy combat.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Elin? Can I ask you a favor?" Alistair's voice cracked a little at the end.

Leliana motioned towards the door. "Go ahead, I'm happy to work."

Elin grabbed a small pouch of silver and started toward the door. At least the market had a sky.

* * *

><p>"And stay out, unless you decide you're not too good to help your poor sister!" The door slammed loudly enough to hurt Alistair's ears.<p>

Alistair stared at the door in shock. His only family had turned out to be a greedy, selfish shrew of a woman who only cared about his non-existent riches. His breath caught in his throat and tears stung at his eyes. _Wonderful_.

He should have expected this. Every time he thought someone might care, something happened. He let out a derisive snort. At least Duncan had the excuse of being dead. It was a morbid thought.

Alistair ran a hand through his hair and tried to will away the pain. "Thanks for coming. I guess we can go now."

"Alistair."

He looked to Elin and found her frowning up at him, tattoos rippling as her brow furrowed. "What?" He had the distinct sensation he had done something wrong.

"She means nothing." Elin's tone was soft despite the stern expression.

"Doesn't she? She's my sister. Family is supposed to care about you." And that was all he had ever wanted, ever since Eamon sent him away. Alistair gave the dirt an angry kick.

Elin sighed. "It doesn't work that way."

Alistair couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. "Yeah, I see that now." He started toward the inn, but Elin caught his wrist. He moved to pull away, but her grip tightened and he turned back to her.

"That's not what I meant. Make your own family." Her eyes were sharp and serious.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I told you, Grey Wardens can't have children, I can't just –"

Elin shook her head and released his wrist. "My clan was my family because they cared for me, and I cared for them. That is what made them family. Do you understand?"

Alistair let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I do." He had felt that way with the other Wardens, that they _meant_ it when they called him brother. "I'd just hoped my real family would be the same way."

She touched his shoulder lightly. "You deserve better."

Maybe it was the intensity in her gaze, or the strength in her voice, but Alistair nearly believed her.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks again to beta xogs 3<em>


	7. Vir'Souvrei

Lothering was gone.

It was eerie to see the town reduced to a bare skeleton of buildings and scorched grass. When Alistair had passed through on the way to Denerim, there had still been a handful of stubborn residents, waiting for family to arrive from the countryside, or stragglers from Ostagar. Alistair could remember some of their faces, and he made sure he did not look too closely at the corpses that littered the ground.

The Blight's corruption lay heavy here, and the dead bodies of a few darkspawn lay untouched by wolves.

Elin was picking her way through the Chantry stores, her face dirty and grim. The fire had only taken out the roof, but the dead inside had begun to fester. Leliana moved about the village like a ghost, offering whispered prayers to send souls to their final rest.

Alistair moved to the small garden behind the Chantry. It was mostly uprooted or burnt, and half-rotted vegetables lay scattered across the ground. He breathed in deeply, the scent of decaying plants a welcome change from the stench of the dead.

Something red at the edge of his vision caught his eye, and he turned toward the single spot of brightness.

A solitary rose blossomed on a prickly, half-dead rose bush. The leaves had mostly withered, and someone had hacked at its roots, but the blossom had not had time to die. The beauty was stunning amidst the destruction.

He approached the lone flower reverently, his footsteps soft and slow. When he caught the scent his eyes fluttered shut and he let out a happy sigh.

The petals were delicate and smooth to the touch, and he felt as though he could spend all day staring at it.

"Alistair! Leliana! Get ready to move out!" Elin's voice broke the silence like a thunderclap.

He was torn. He knew they had to leave, but he could not bear to leave it behind.

The thorns pricked his finger as he cut the rose from the bush, and he sucked at the blood that matched the petals. It would not last long in his pack, but it was too perfect to abandon.

Alistair smiled as he tucked it gently in his bag.

* * *

><p>Elin scrubbed furiously at the bottom of the stewpot. Sten had burned dinner terribly, then blamed it on the food. The bad meal had made everyone snappish, and she was relieved to be away from the camp.<p>

At least the small stream was beautiful. The water was clear and refreshing. Even the mud was soft and cool, and she began to hum as she worked at the pot.

By the time Elin had finished washing the pot, the noises from the camp had died down. The small clearing where everyone had set up their tents was almost deserted. Only Alistair remained by the fire.

She set down the pot and joined him. "First watch?"

"Yes. Oh!" Alistair's eyes went wide and he looked around, half-frantic. "Wait here, I'll be back."

Elin watched Alistair while he darted over this pack. He rummaged a bit before standing to face her, one hand behind his back.

He approached with a nervous laugh. "I guess this must look odd."

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Right." Alistair shifted. "I want you to have this."

Elin's breath caught in her throat. Alistair held out a flower that was unlike anything she had seen before. The many petals were gently curved, and the color was a deep, rich red.

"It's lovely."

Alistair cleared his throat. "I found it in Lothering. It was so beautiful and I, I thought of you." He held it towards her. "Here, take it."

She gingerly took the flower into her hands. The petals felt like the velvet on a young deer's antlers. The scent caught her nose and she sighed. "It smells so good."

Alistair lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you like it."

One calloused fingertip trailed along the edge of her ear, and heat crept into her cheeks. "_Ma serannas._"

His hand dropped and Alistair took a step back. "Well then. You should get to sleep, it's getting late."

"Thank you". Elin nodded slowly and lifted the rose to her nose once more. "Sleep well."

* * *

><p>Sten swung at the elf and braced for the impact of blade on bone. The elf danced out of his reach, green eyes blazing. It was the seventh time he had missed her, and the sword seemed to grow heavier with each swing.<p>

Steel flashed in the corner of his eye before his long, heavy swing even touched the ground. He tried to duck, but the move threw him off balance. Sten hissed as a thin, sharp blade glanced against his cheek.

By the time Sten had steadied himself, the elf was once again out of reach. She was crouched, daggers ready. One of her blades shone red with his blood.

Sten raised his sword with a loud cry and rushed the elf. She stood her ground until the last moment, then rolled away from the swing. Pain shot through his right leg as it collapsed beneath his weight. Another bite behind his left knee, and he collapsed completely.

There was a moment when he thought he could push himself to his knees, but the elf was suddenly on him, blade pressed against the back of his neck. She was so light the weight hardly bothered him, but when he tried to move the dagger dug into his skin.

Shame coursed through Sten as he lay on the ground. He could smell the blood – _his_ blood – and he closed his eyes.

Footsteps sounded through the thick brush. "Warden! What has happened?" The sound of the assassin gave Sten the urge to spit. There was no honor in selling such skills.

"Get Alistair."

"Yes, my Warden."

Sten grunted once the footsteps could no longer be heard. "If you wish to kill me, be done with it."

The elf's weight shifted and the dagger bit a little deeper. "_Ma halam_."

"I do not understand what you say." Sten tried to relax against the ground. If he could reach her, he did not need a sword to end her life.

"_Ar'din nuvenin na'din_, Sten." The elf's tone was icy calm.

"Speak so I may understand, or do not speak at all!" Sten slowly began to shift his arm. He must be careful.

The dagger against his neck relaxed.

Sten tried to grab at her, but the angle was too awkward and made him slow. Pain blossomed in his shoulder as a dagger sunk deep, and Sten let out a roar of pain and frustration.

"_Ma emma harel_, Sten_._" The blade in his shoulder twisted enough to steal Sten's breath. "You should fear me."

Every breath seemed to draw the dagger deeper and he could feel the blood soaking the padding beneath his armor.

"Elin!" Alistair's voice was accompanied by the sound of him tearing through the underbrush.

"You broke your word, Sten." The elf's voice was quiet and even, but it chilled Sten to his core. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

His mind was blank. "I do not know."

"Will you try this again?"

He tried to shake his head and gasped when the dagger at his neck scraped bone. "No, No! I accept your command." She had beaten him. His blade was hers.

The steel left his neck, and the Warden climbed off.

Sten blinked as three sets of boots stopped half a dozen paces away.

"Maker, what happened?" The older mage was breathing hard.

"Wynne, Sten needs healing." The Warden wrenched the blade from his shoulder and Sten's vision briefly went white.

Leather creaked as the Warden bent by Sten's face. Her features were smooth and flat. "Next time, you die."

Sten could hear the promise in her voice. "Yes, Warden."

* * *

><p>"Elin! It is good to see you, <em>lethallan<em>." Tamlen smiled. "I have missed our hunts."

The voice made her breath catch in her throat. It even _sounded_ like Tamlen.

Tears stung her eyes as she shook her head. "As have I. But you are _din_." She drew a trembling breath. "There can be no more hunts."

The image of Tamlen nodded sadly. "You are right."

Elin stepped forward and reached out to touch Tamlen's shoulder. Her fingertips found only air and she grimaced. "Why are you here?"

"I am your past and made from your memories." Tamlen smiled. "You have done well. I knew you would."

Elin tried to return the smile. The thing's eyes were dead, and she could find no comfort in the illusion. "_Dareth shiral_."

As the words died on her lips, the image shimmered and disappeared.

* * *

><p>The village had been silent since they returned from the mountain. The children were nowhere to be seen, and searching had given them no clues.<p>

Elin could not get the acrid scent of burning flesh out of her nostrils. They had piled the dead in the Chantry, and the building still smoldered. Elin was bone-tired, but she did not want to sleep.

She sat on the dock, legs dangling over the edge and stared up at the sky. The constellations of deer and hunter, sun and wolf, shone brightly overhead. The moon was nowhere to be seen.

The light of a torch suddenly broke through the darkness, and heavy footsteps clomped down the wooden stairs.

"If you keep turning up by lakes, I might start to think you're half fish."

Elin turned and smiled. Of course it was Alistair. "I might be." Her clan had camped along lakes a few times when Elin had been young, and she had never quite outgrown the fascination with them.

Alistair wiggled the torch into an old iron holder. "The others weren't sure where you'd gone."

"_Abelas_." She sighed. "I didn't mean to worry anyone."

"I can't blame you for it." He shrugged. "Mind if I sit down?"

She moved to accommodate him, but the narrow dock was barely wide enough to hold them both. Alistair's leg pressed against Elin's, and the warmth was comforting against the chill night air.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Alistair grinned. "You know, now the crazy, dragon-worshipping zealots are gone."

She laughed and nodded. "It's very pretty."

Several long moments passed in silence.

"It's not as pretty as you are."

"I – _ma serannas_." Elin's stomach seemed to flutter.

"I don't know how to say this, but," Alistair let out a long breath, "I've come to care for you."

Elin settled her gaze on the water and tried to think of what she could say. Alistair was no longer just a fellow Warden and a skilled fighter. He was the only real friend she had now, and she trusted him. He was a _shemlen_, but he didn't stare at her tattoos, or her ears, or call her "elf." Something about him was so genuine, so good, and every time something terrible happened he was there, all easy smiles and soft words.

Alistair cleared his throat. "Right, that was stupid of me. Can we just pretend this never happened?" He moved as if to stand.

Elin laid a hand on Alistair's arm. "Wait." When he paused to look at her, impulse overtook her. She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

For a brief moment Alistair tensed and Elin began to move away. "_Abe –_"

His mouth covered hers before she could finish. His lips were warm and insistent, and when he lifted a hand to cup her face she sighed and pulled him closer.

When they broke the kiss, her breaths came quick and shallow. Heat rose in her cheeks. "Was that all right?"

Alistair brushed a thumb over her cheek and let out a soft sigh. "Perfect."

Elin smiled and drew him down for another kiss.

* * *

><p><em>Many thanks to xogs 3<em>


	8. Atisha din'Elvhen

Even awake, Eamon looked older than Alistair remembered. The Arl was propped up with a myriad of small, multi-colored pillows that were piled in such a way they nearly looked like a throne. The effect was not exactly regal.

"I will do what I can to rally the nobles." Eamon's voice cracked and he lifted a shaking hand towards a mug of tea. Isolde made a soothing noise and lifted the mug to his lips.

As some of the tea dribbled down Eamon's beard as he drank, Alistair stole a glance at Elin. Her arms were folded across her chest and her expression was flat and unreadable.

"Will you call a Landsmeet?" Teagan approached Eamon's bed and gave Elin a wide berth.

Eamon waved away the tea and nodded. "When the Wardens are ready. Alistair, what do you have left to do?"

Alistair's eyes widened. "I'm not in charge, Elin is."

Elin stepped forward and nodded. "We must call on the dwarves and," Elin paused briefly, "the Dalish. The mages have agreed to help."

"Very well then. That will give me time to contact the nobles and recover." The Arl began to cough, and soon Alistair and Elin were ushered out of the room. The hacking was muffled behind the door, but still audible.

"I remembered him differently." The Eamon in his memories was tall and strong, but Alistair supposed any ten year-old would have see him that way.

"If he can get the help he says, then it is what we need." Elin shrugged.

"And if he can't?"

Elin was quiet for a long while. "We still end the Blight. We have to." She shook her head and sighed. "I need fresh air."

As she disappeared down the corridor, Alistair turned toward the castle's chapel. He felt a sudden, desperate need to pray.

* * *

><p>Elin's mind raced. There were a dozen places a clan might be camped in the Brecilian forest, and all of them might be empty. Those she travelled with might not be allowed to enter the camp, or she might be turned away completely. And she cared for one of the <em>shemlen<em>.

It was the last that scared her most. Any of the people who had children by _shemlen_ were never allowed to return, though they were usually ejected from their clans long before a child came of the relationship. She had not yet shared a bed with Alistair, but the way he looked at her left little doubt for the way he felt.

"You're going to wear a hole in the ground, dear." Wynne's voice made her jump.

"What?"

"You've been pacing that same spot for half an hour." Wynne patted the log she was sitting on.

Elin blushed and sat beside Wynne. She had not realized she had been so outwardly nervous.

Everything about the mage reminded Elin of Ashalle. The features were different, but the mannerisms were so similar it would have been unsettling had it not been a comfort.

Wynne placed a hand on Elin's knee. "What bothers you?"

Elin sighed heavily. "I fear I am no longer one of the _Elvhen_" Wynne could not understand, but she had reassured Elin's fears on more than one occasion. It was worth a try.

"Why not?" Wynne's eyes searched her face, all motherly concern.

Tears stung at her eyes and Elin wiped at them angrily. She would not cry. "My Keeper sent me away. And…" Elin looked up to find Alistair sparring with Zevran, and her voice caught in her throat.

Wynne followed her gaze and sighed softly. "And you worry what they will think of Alistair?"

Elin nodded.

Wynne slipped her arms around Elin and held her. The embrace was too comforting, and Elin let herself cry..

"What will happen if they find out?" Wynne gently stroked Elin's hair as she spoke.

Elin let out a shuddering breath. "I will be exiled." The thought tightened her stomach into knots.

"Does Alistair know this?"

"No." Elin did not know how to tell him what something as small as a familiar touch might mean for her.

Wynne sighed as she sat back. "And when were you going to tell him?"

Elin winced at Wynne's disapproving tone. "I don't know." Time was growing short. They had left the main road the day before, and small stands of trees had begun to dot the rolling hills. The forest was close.

"I think sooner would be best." Wynne stood and stretched. "It is time for me to sleep. Good night, Elin."

"Good night." Elin returned her gaze to Alistair. The sparring was finished, and he sat alone as he polished his armor.

She steeled herself and stood. He had to know.

* * *

><p>Alistair cursed as he stumbled over a branch. They seemed to be everywhere, and no matter how carefully he stepped, one always managed to snag him. The forest had only grown thicker over the past week, and the others had fared little better.<p>

Elin scouted a few dozen paces ahead, oblivious to the forest's dense undergrowth. She moved fluidly, and slid around branches and snags with an almost unnatural ease. The movements were sure and flawless, and the beauty of it almost made him forget he was upset with her.

A low whistle from Elin drew everyone to a halt. She spread her arms wide, hands empty. "_Aneth ara, Elvhen_."

Elves melted out of the trees, bows drawn. One man drew his sword and strode toward Elin. "_Viran se lan'aan_?"

Elin stood stock still. "_Emma Elvhen_. _Ar in an bel'melava_."

"_Elvhen? Ma shiral in shemlen, in elvhen'alas_." The man spat. "_Ma seth'lin."_

One of Elin's fingers twitched. "_Emma dorf'mi_."

The man frowned and lowered his blade. "_Vin emma._"

Wood creaked as the drawn bows were relaxed, and Alistair let out a breath he did not remember holding. The elves began to fade back into the forest. Elin motioned for the others to follow.

He reached her side first and eyed the man that had drawn the sword. "What was that about?"

She did not look at him, and when she spoke her tone was sharp. "He asked why I travelled with _shemlen_ and a flat-ear. He did not believe I was a true Dalish."

"What changed his mind?"

"I told him I was a Grey Warden." She inhaled sharply. "That is why they did not kill us."

Alistair's earlier anger with Elin began to fade. He had thought other Dalish would be more like her. "I didn't realize it would be like this."

"It doesn't matter." Her voice wavered. "We found them."

* * *

><p>She had promised herself she would not cry.<p>

Elin sat cross-legged, staring at the clan's campfires. She could hear the halla, and the low hum of voices, but she was too far to hear anything distinct. She ached to hear a _hahren_ tell stories, or remind them of their gods and their purpose. Zathrian had refused to allow her participation in such things; he insisted they were for the ears of the People alone.

The words had provoked her anger and her grief, but she had said nothing. She had no place among the _Elvhen_ here.

Elin exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. She would be strong.

* * *

><p>The dagger at his throat stung as it nipped his skin. Zathrian barely dared to breathe with it pressed so close.<p>

Elin stared down at him, eyes cold. "_Nan uth'din._ End it or I will kill you."

He could not help the snarl that burst from his lips. "Killing me won't make you _Elvhen, seth'lin_."

The dagger pressed deeper and Elin's eyes glittered dangerously. "You have brought death to your clan. _Ma virnan'halam_."

Zathrian stared at her and clung to his hate. He hated the _shemlen_ for the loss of his family, the werewolves for mauling his clan. He hated the long centuries spent angry and alone. He hated Elin, because her words cut true.

Finally, he closed his eyes. "_Ar halam sahlin_." Zathrian slumped against the rough stone floor. He was too exhausted to fight any longer.

Elin nodded grimly and lifted the blade at his throat.

Zathrian slowly climbed to his feet and began to cast for the last time.

* * *

><p>The clan's campfires still lay distant, but this time she stood apart by choice. She was a Warden, now. The Dalish were her past; she had to keep them there.<p>

Alistair dropped another log on the fire as she drew close to him.

Elin swallowed hard and tried to steady her breath. "Alistair?"

He half turned toward her. "Elin."

She slipped her hand into his and stopped beside him.

Alistair gaped at her. "I thought you said –"

"It doesn't matter anymore." She could no longer cling to the _Elvhen_ and wish for her clan. They were gone, and her blood hummed in her veins when darkspawn grew near. She was beyond the Dalish, now. She was a Warden.

"Do you mean that?" Alistair turned his gaze back to the fire.

"Yes."

Alistair's hand gave hers a gentle squeeze, and she rested her head against his shoulder. She could no longer be with her people, but she was not alone.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always, to beta xogs!<em>


	9. Melava'falon, Sahlin Nuvenin

Elin drove her dagger into the base of the shriek's skull and twisted. The creature twitched as it fell to the ground. Bitter blood spattered across her mouth as she wrenched the blade free. The darkspawn were nearly finished.

Something shifted behind her and she spun to attack. The creature was not quite like the others, and she hesitated for half a heartbeat. Something about the eyes –

Elin dropped her blades with a gasp.

The face was beyond recognition, but the thing had Tamlen's eyes. "_Lethallan_."

A sob rose in Elin's throat. "_Nae. Nae dar Tamlen._"

"Run! Stay away!" Tamlen turned and bounded into the trees.

"_Nae! Lethallin!_" She ran after him as someone cried out behind her. The forest seemed to turn against her, snagging and pulling as she followed his wisp of a trail. "_Lethallin!"_

When she finally burst into a clearing, Tamlen was on his knees, hands over his face. Each finger ended in a long, sharp claw. "You should not see me like… this."

"Tamlen. I thought you were dead. _Abelas_. " Tears filled her eyes until her vision grew blurry. "I should have looked for you longer."

He shook his head and looked up at her. "I was gone. _Emma din_." Each word

Elin moved forward, hardly able to breathe. "Come with me. _Emma dorf'mi_."

Every limb in Tamlen's body went rigid and he let out a howl that chilled her. His head thrashed back and forth until he fell forward, panting in exhaustion.

She started forward, but he held up a hand. "_Nae!_ I can hear him in my head. The song is in my blood." Tamlen shuddered. "The song is in you." He looked at her in pure confusion. "Do you not hear? He calls until it burns. I, I –" Tamlen snarled and leaped toward her.

Tamlen's sharp teeth caught her arm and sank deep. She screamed as he worried at her arm, and his claws slashed at her ribs. She kicked and , but he was much stronger than she remembered.

Steel shone briefly in the moonlight before it connected with Tamlen's shoulder. He let out a roar that freed his teeth from her mangled arm. Tamlen tried to struggle to his feet, but Sten's sword lashed out and cut a deep gash from neck to navel.

Tamlen slumped forward and let out one gurgling breath as he collapsed on top of Elin.

She stared skyward as someone lifted Tamlen's body from hers. The wet noise of dead flesh hitting the ground made her flinch.

When someone gently touched her torn arm, the world went black.

* * *

><p>Elin let out a quiet groan as the wagon bumped over rock. Wynne pressed a hand to the elf's forehead and frowned she found it hot. The infection had stubbornly hung on for three days, despite all of Wynne's healing and Morrigan's seemingly endless knowledge of herbs.<p>

The wagon rocked as it went through a small rut, and Elin whimpered.

Wynne stroked Elin's hair gently. "We're almost there, dear." They were fortunate to have found a merchant willing to take them to Redcliffe. Zevran had taken a nasty wound to the leg, and walking had been nearly impossible for him. After she had warned him off complimenting her bosom, Zevran had spent most of his time regaling the merchant with wild tales of Antiva.

"Alistair?" Elin's eyes fluttered open and she reached at air.

"He'll be here tonight. You need to rest, now." Wynne held Elin's uninjured hand and cast a simple sleeping spell.

Elin murmured once before she slumped against the blankets.

Wynne leaned against the side of the wagon and closed her eyes as it creaked and groaned down the path.

* * *

><p>Elin rushed him, blades out. Alistair lifted his shield and swung half-heartedly.<p>

She stepped back and huffed disapprovingly. "I can fight."

Alistair kept his eyes on her daggers. "Wynne said to be careful."

"I can fight." She lashed out with her good arm and he parried just in time. The other dagger moved to strike and he thrust his shield into the blow.

Her weapon clattered to the ground as she drew in a hissing breath.

"Give it a few more days. You need rest."

Elin let out a frustrated cry and lashed out with the single blade. He caught the blow with his sword and pushed against her. She struggled against him, but there was nothing more she could do.

"I yield." The words were spoken through gritted teeth, and when Alistair relaxed she hurled her dagger at a practice dummy. The hilt bounced off one of the arms and plopped into the grass.

Alistair sighed and looked at her incredulously. "What was that about?" Elin tended to be better at stabbing things when she was angry, and she never lost her calm.

She leaned against a stone wall and looked skyward. "I'm tired of being sick." Elin scrubbed her face with the back of her good hand and sniffled. "It was Tamlen."

Alistair frowned in confusion. "What was Tamlen?"

Elin lifted up her scarred arm and drew in a shaking breath. "The thing that did this."

Alistair's heart dropped into his boots. Sten had sworn Elin had chased after one of the shrieks, but she had said nothing when asked. The shriek that had nearly killed her had been smaller than the others, and something about it had been off.

"Maker, Elin, I didn't know. I'm so sorry." The words sounded trite, though he doubted he could say anything to help.

She slid down the wall and shook her head. "I was stupid. I dropped my weapons when I saw him. I should have been more careful, I –"

"Elin." Alistair sat down next to her. "That's not what matters."

"I know." She leaned against his shoulder and sighed. "I know."

* * *

><p>Elin hated Redcliffe. The castle still smelled like Eamon's sick bed, and he constantly spoke of what needed to be done once Alistair was king. The talk always put Alistair in a bad mood, and he would disappear to sulk. The one saving grace of the castle was the view of the lake, and that was why <em>she<em> sulked on the battlements.

They were to leave tomorrow, but again, Alistair had disappeared after Eamon's excited talk of something called taxes. Elin did not understand half of it, and honestly did not care to. She was simply glad her arm had healed enough to fight again.

"My lady."

Elin resisted the urge to flinch. "My name is Elin."

"I know." Teagan's tone was almost smug.

She kept her gaze on the lake. "Yes?"

Teagan settled next to her and peered over the edge of the wall. "What do you think you're going to get out of Alistair?"

"What?" Elin frowned in confusion.

"Eamon asked me to find out. I doubt he had such a… direct approach in mind, but I'd rather be honest." Teagan sighed. "What do you want from Alistair?"

Elin shrugged her shoulders against the sudden chill. "I don't understand."

Teagan shook his head. "Don't be coy. He's heir to the throne, and you weren't making eyes at him before you found out. What do you want from him?"

"Nothing."

"Is that how this will be?" Teagan searched her face a few moments before he pushed away from the wall. "Maybe you're telling the truth, maybe you aren't. It doesn't really matter. Eamon finds you 'inconvenient' for his plans. I'd stop things from going further if I were you."

Elin frowned. She cared little for the wishes of _shemlen_ lords. "No."

Teagan pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. "I thought you'd say that. Well," he threw his hands up in exasperation, "don't say I didn't warn you."

Elin said nothing as he left, but the words put her ill at ease.

She stayed on the battlements until sunset, and when the call for dinner came she ignored it entirely. She owed Eamon nothing.

* * *

><p>Alistair sighed when he saw the state of the strap. The darkspawn's dagger had almost severed it.<p>

Elin abruptly crouched beside him and Alistair blinked. He was getting better at hiding his surprise, but he could never hear her footsteps when she wanted to be silent.

"What's wrong?" Elin picked up a bracer and inspected it.

He held the pauldron up for her to see. "Strap's almost been cut in two. I don't suppose we have any extra leather?"

"You could use the one around your bedroll." Elin grinned and set the bracer back down. "If it's even long enough."

"Very funny." Alistair stuck out his tongue for a brief moment. "I suppose I should wear the bedroll like a cape?"

Elin nodded seriously. "You would be very terrifying."

Alistair shook his head and chuckled. "Did you come over specifically to torment me, or was that just an added bonus?"

She took the pauldron from his fingers and placed it next to the bracers. "I wanted to tell you something."

Alistair frowned. She tended to the painfully direct sort of talk, and the last time Elin had skirted around an issue, it had involved warnings about angry, possibly murderous, Dalish if he so much as looked at her.

"Yes?" He half-wondered if there was something about elf-human relationships that made dwarves angry.

Color rose in her cheeks and she let out a long breath. Alistair braced himself for the worst.

"I… Creators, it shouldn't be this difficult." Elin licked her lips and began to trace designs in the dirt. "_Ar nuvenin ma_."

"I still don't understand Elvish." Alistair had tried to learn a few phrases, but he was hopeless.

She turned to him, eyes dark and intent. "What about this?"

Elin's mouth was on his before he had a chance to think. He yielded to her as she shifted to straddle his lap. The weight and warmth of her body made Alistair's head spin. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest, the roll of her hips as she moved to kiss him deeper. His hands rose to her waist, almost unbidden, and she murmured approvingly when they moved down to grip her hips.

She broke away from his mouth suddenly, and her breaths came quick and shallow. "Do you understand now?"

Alistair nodded dumbly. "Yes."

Elin ran a finger down his neck and smiled when he shivered. "Then come to bed with me?"

"Come to –" Alistair stopped as the words sank in. "Now?"

"Please." She nodded earnestly. "_Ar nuvenin ma_. I want you."

Alistair's mouth went dry and his face suddenly grew hot. He had thought about this, dreamed of it. Maker forgive him, he had touched himself more than once while he thought of her, but now he was all nerves. What if he disappointed her? Worse, what if he did something wrong and hurt her? He suddenly felt very big and clumsy, and entirely unsure of himself.

"Maker, Elin, I, I've never done this." His cheeks began to burn. "I want to, I want _you_, I just," he drew in a long breath, "I want this to be right. What if it's not what you expected?"

Elin splayed her fingers across his chest and brushed her lips against his ear. "Then we'll try again."

The warmth of her breath against his ear made Alistair whimper. "Elin."

"_Hamin in'ar_." Her hips rolled against his. "Please."

Teeth nipped at his ear, and Alistair's worries melted into liquid heat. "Yes."

* * *

><p><em>Many thanks to the lovely xogs, who cleans up after my grammatical messes.<em>


	10. Durgen Tu'era

Elin bristled at Bhelen. She had been running around the miserable dwarven city for three days to satisfy the Prince's demands. "I've done what you asked, yet you need more. Are _durgen'len_ always so helpless?"

The prince's face grew dark. "_You_ asked for help, Warden. I can only do that if you help me."

"I did not _ask_. The treaty states your obligation." Elin folded her arms and glowered. She was tired of needy allies.

Bhelen strode across the room until he was nearly on top of Elin's boots. He shifted uncomfortably as he craned his head to look up at her.

Elin raised one eyebrow at him and stood her ground.

The _durgen'len_ cleared his throat and took a step back. "I realize you're upset." Bhelen's voice was back to that soft, smooth tone he had used when she first arrived. It was as smooth as oil on a sharpened blade. "But I must be king if you want your army. And I can't become king unless you find Paragon Branka."

She did not care about the politics of _durgen'len_, but she needed an army and Bhelen had promised more than just the warrior caste. Jarvia's casteless had not died easily. "Swear that this is the last task."

Bhelen nodded slowly. "I swear, in the name of the ancestors, that I will send Orzammar's army to aid you at the end of this task."

Elin did not believe a word that fell from his lips, but she had little choice. "Tell me where to find her."

* * *

><p>Alistair stared at the ceiling. Everything felt wrong down here. The walls hummed until his head went fuzzy, and he felt so bloody <em>hot<em> all the time. Elin felt it too, and she had a feverish look about her that made him worry. All of the others complained the caves were too cold and too quiet.

Sleep grew more difficult the deeper they went. Blue-black nightmares tumbled through his mind, large and looming and entirely beyond description or definition. The musty smell of the damp ground only seemed to make it worse.

He looked to Elin and found her staring at a distant wall. He tried to see what held her attention, but there was nothing there except moss.

A sickly yellow light flared in his head. Alistair cringed at the sudden brightness and held his head until it passed. It was not the first time this had happened.

"Elin?"

"I felt it." Her voice sounded small and distant.

Alistair crawled over to her perch and rested his head on her lap. "I don't like it down here."

She stroked his hair and sighed softly. "I don't either." Her fingers traced along the curve of his ear and he shivered. "But we need to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep alone." He had dealt with nightmares before, but something about the ones here felt closer, as though he would wake to find the dream-shadows tearing at his throat.

"Then stay by me." The words were almost a plea.

Alistair only nodded and pulled his bedroll to hers. When they lay down to sleep, he clung to her and listened to the beating of her heart, loud and clear above the hum of the earth.

* * *

><p>The darkspawn beneath the earth felt different.<p>

Elin could sense their purpose, and she could almost understand the whispers in her head. It terrified and thrilled her, and her blood seemed to leap with joy whenever they drew near. Now, as darkspawn swarmed the small cavern, her blood itched inside her veins, and her heart ached until she almost could not bear it.

She lashed out at a charging hurlock and grimaced as the blade sunk deep into its chest. The whispers sharpened as it drew a shuddering breath. She twisted the knife and yanked it free as the body went slack.

Those who followed her moved as one.

Sten and Alistair pressed forward through the cavern, a wall of steel and shield and flesh. Leliana's arrows whizzed past her ears, and magic blossomed in the darkspawn until it bubbled from their eyes and mouths in sickly green tones. The _durgen'len_ stood near the mages and swung his axe at the darkspawn like a man possessed. Zevran fought at Elin's side, slipping through the battle's chaos to cut down the careless and slit the throats of the maimed.

They were death. They were vengeance. They were hers.

* * *

><p>Tears streamed down Alistair's face as the Archdemon called. Nothing could have prepared him for the terrifying beauty of its song. Elin shivered next to him, green eyes wide and intense. Both of them flinched as the Archdemon roared again, loud enough to make Alistair's ears ring.<p>

There was a great flap of wings and the roiling need in his blood began to ease.

"What _was_ that?" Leliana's accent was thick, and her voice shook as she spoke.

"The Archdemon." Elin scrambled to her feet and ran to the edge of the chasm. "That was the Archdemon."

Alistair rose on wobbly legs to stare down the long, twisting cavern. He could feel the Archdemon rapidly grow distant.

Elin stepped back from the edge and shook her head. "We need to go. Now."

Alistair followed her stumbling steps into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Branka's eyes blazed as she worked the Anvil. The bright sparks illuminated her face in brief flashes, and Oghren could almost see the girl beneath the madwoman. But the sparks died, and so did the illusion, and the metal groaned and rang beneath Branka's rhythmic strokes. The Warden sat a dozen paces away and watched with a blank expression.<p>

Oghren grunted. Looking at the two of them made his skin crawl. He was tired of cold women and stone golems. He fingered the cap of his drinking horn. There was a swig or two left; he had saved it to celebrate if they found Branka.

"Sod it." He tugged the cork free and lifted the horn to his lips. Branka's madness was nothing to raise a drink to, but bugger it if he was going to listen to her work the damned Anvil sober.

* * *

><p>Sharp, cold wind rushed through the gap in the massive doors and Elin nearly sobbed in relief. As the doors opened wider, the brightness of the sun nearly blinded her. She had never seen anything so beautiful. It was over.<p>

Elin writhed around his slow, even thrusts and let out a soft breath. "Touch me."

Alistair groaned at the words and moved to obey. "Here?

"Lower." Her hand closed over his and shifted his touch. "There."

He could not tear his eyes from her face as her eyes fluttered closed. Her back arched suddenly and a loud gasp escaped her lips.

Alistair whimpered softly as she tightened around him. "Maker, you're beautiful."

Elin settled back against the bedroll and gave him a satisfied, half-lidded look. "I love you."

His heart jumped in his chest; he had ached to hear those words. "I love you, too."

She reached toward him and rolled her hips into a thrust. "Please."

Alistair leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Her legs wrapped around him as fingers slid into his hair, and she made breathy little fussing noises against his lips. The sensations were rapidly growing to be too much and Alistair pulled away, breath coming fast and heavy. "Give me a minute."

Elin shook her head. "Don't stop. Please."

The needy tone in her voice nearly pushed Alistair beyond control. "I'm too close, I –"

"I don't care."

Alistair buried his face against her neck and lost himself.

* * *

><p>Eamon smiled as Elin entered the room. "Come in, Warden. And please, close the door."<p>

Elin reluctantly did as he asked. It felt too much like a trap.

"I wanted to thank you for what you've done." Eamon gestured towards a large chair. "You've saved my people and my family. I am grateful."

The Arl's eyes were too intent, his smile too stiff. Elin ignored the chair. "What do you need?"

Eamon maintained the façade a few moments before sighing. "I know you care for the boy, but you need to end things. Alistair can't win support if he's got an elf in his bed."

"Then put someone else forward." Alistair was good-natured, but ill-suited for leadership.

"He is the heir of Calenhad, he –"

"He hasn't the slightest idea how to rule." Elin's pulse quickened in anger.

"Then I'll advise him until he does!" Eamon stood and pounded a fist on his desk. "You are not to interfere!"

Elin laughed and shook her head. "Why not rule yourself?"

Eamon set his jaw and glowered. "Alistair is the heir."

Her hands twitched and she itched to draw her weapons. "He wasn't when you made him sleep in a barn. Or when you sent him to the Templars."

"That was different."

Elin gave him a bitter smile. "Yes. He wasn't useful then."

Eamon's face grew red and he spoke through clenched teeth. "I will not listen to this from some forest savage."

She could not afford to lose the armies Eamon had rallied in her absence, but she could afford to lose the only other Warden in Ferelden less. "There is a Blight, and Wardens are required. Find another heir."

Elin turned on her heel and yanked the door open.

"Just stay out of his bed under my roof." Eamon sounded tired and half-pleading. "Do this and I won't interfere again."

She nodded once. It was nothing she trusted, but it would keep the peace a little while. "Very well."

"Thank you. Close the door when you leave."

Elin sighed in relief once she was free of the Arl, and prayed the truce would hold.

* * *

><p><em> <em>As part of the Biower Bang, I was paired with the lovely and talented artist, Hemisphere. A gorgeous scene from this chapter can be found in my profile. <em>__Many, many thanks to xogs who finds time to beta this story._


	11. Seth Bel'sahlin

"I don't like this." The Warden paced the floor of the study.

Eamon was nearly at wits' end. She had avoided anything… overt, with Alistair, but there was little else about her Eamon liked. The delegations from her allies had wanted to travel to Denerim, and he had expected it to come to blows when he refused. Eamon could not fathom what drew Alistair to the woman; she was pretty, in a savage way, but he had never known someone so curt and cold.

"I'm not exactly keen on it myself, but the queen would be a powerful ally. The people adore her." If Loghain had gone so far as to turn Anora against him, there may yet be hope.

The Warden stopped and studied his face intently. Her gaze was all the more unnerving for the tattoos. "What do you suggest?"

Her eyes stayed locked on him and Eamon fought the urge to fidget. "Go, but be cautious, and careful. Get the queen out with as little disruption as possible." A fight in the estate would be suicide; rumor said Howe had tripled the guard in the last four months

There were several moments of silence before the Warden sighed. "Will she back us against the Blight?"

Eamon stroked his beard absently. "Yes. Anora was always the power behind Cailan. She will protect Ferelden at any cost, even if it's against her own father."

The Warden grimaced, but nodded. "I'll do it."

* * *

><p>Elin drew a hissing breath as she jogged down the hall. The arrow in her side seemed to twist with every step.<p>

"We're nearly there. The front hall is through this doorway." The queen sounded calm and confident. Elin gave her a weak smile.

As they burst into the room, Elin's heart sank. Cauthrien barred the way out of the castle, flanked by a dozen archers.

"You've been caught, Wardens." Cauthrien's tone was all brisk business. "Come quietly and your… friends can leave unhurt."

Elin tightened her grip on her daggers. Her fingers were slick with her own blood and the leather hilts had grown slippery. The arrow in her side hurt too much to fight. "Very well."

"What?" Alistair's tone was pure disbelief. "We're just giving up?"

She nodded reluctantly. "I can't fight. Your shoulder is weak." Alistair had wrenched something as they had fought through the dungeon, and he could barely lift his shield any longer.

Alistair sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Elin dropped her blades to the floor and stepped towards Cauthrien with arms outstretched. "I don't."

* * *

><p>"Tell us your plans!" The guard turned towards Elin and gave a sharp kick to her ribs.<p>

She shrieked as bones cracked under hard iron boots. The arrow wound had long since ceased to be worthy of any special notice under the bruises.

Fingers tangled in her hair and wrenched her head back so hard she could barely breathe. "Come on, speak."

Tears blurred her vision. "End the Blight." It was the only answer she had.

The guard dropped her abruptly. "Loghain wants a better answer than that."

"Do I?"

Elin froze. She knew that voice.

Loghain moved until he was peering down at Elin. "Tell me, Warden. What communications have you had with Orlais? What has the Empress offered you in return?"

"None. Nothing." She swallowed hard.

"I can't believe that." Loghain's icy grey-blue eyes narrowed and he crouched next to her. He reached out and grabbed her face to turn it from side to side. "What are you hiding?"

His fingers dug into her cheeks painfully, and her jaw ached so badly she could barely speak. "Nothing." She drew a sharp breath that was half-sob. "I swear."

Loghain sighed and released her. "Take her back to her cell. Give her nothing but a little water. Same for the other." He stood and shook his head. "It will take longer, but the Landsmeet is a week or more away. We have time."

* * *

><p>Elin did not protest when two strong sets of arms hauled her to her feet, but nothing the guards did could make her stand. She was spent.<p>

Morrigan could feel the guard's life draining away as he shook. She smiled coldly and clenched her fist, bringing the spell to its apex. The guard slumped to the ground and joined his fellows in death.

"I found them!" Leliana's voice was more relief than excitement as she bounded towards the door. A large ring of iron keys hung from one hand.

"Good." Morrigan had not wanted to come, but Eamon had insisted on sending someone who could heal, and the old mage was almost useless at killing.

Leliana turned the lock with a loud click and timidly pushed the door open. Morrigan followed slowly as she prepared a spell to stun.

"It's safe." The redhead pushed the door open and quickly disappeared. "They're here!"

Morrigan let the spell dissolve between her fingers and hurried to catch up with Leliana. The Wardens were huddled against the bars that connected their two cells.

"Elin? Alistair?" Leliana unlocked Elin's door and quickly moved to Alistair's. "We're here. It's going to be all right."

Morrigan was not so sure as she bent to heal Elin, but she needed the Wardens to live.

* * *

><p>Elin jumped at the knock on the door and instantly winced at the pang in her ribs.<p>

"Warden?" The voice was female.

"Come in." Elin struggled to sit up and braced herself against the sharp ache in her side.

The door opened and Anora strode in. She looked perfectly calm and at ease as she took the chair near Elin's bed. "How are you?"

"Healing."

The queen waited a moment before smiling. "Good. Are you well enough to talk?"

Elin nodded carefully. "Yes."

"It seems you're a straightforward woman. I can appreciate that." Anora leaned back in the chair as if relaxed, but her posture remained straight and controlled. "Thank you for rescuing me. I had not expected it to go so badly for you. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist in your recovery."

For all the woman's cool control, Elin could not help feeling that the words were sincere. "You're welcome. Wynne and Morrigan are doing well." Elin's only real complaint was the taste of the concoctions Morrigan forced on her.

Anora smoothed her skirts deliberately. "I realize people do not do such things without a price. I would like to know yours."

Elin could not gaping a little. She had grown too used to the way Eamon danced around words. "I need Ferelden's armies against the Blight. And my own army must gather without protest."

"And when the Blight is over?" Anora's eyes had grown sharp.

"They leave." The Dalish may wish better treatment, but would not press against so large a force.

Anora's eyes seemed to weigh Elin for a long, uncomfortable moment. "And who do you plan to see on the throne?"

Elin shrugged and cringed at the way her shoulder spasmed. "I don't care."

"Then you would support my claim?"

"Yes. Promise me the army for the Blight, and I promise I will support you." Elin had little care who ruled, but even Eamon had spoken well of the queen.

"And Alistair?" The words were spoken casually, but Anora's face was guarded.

"He is a Warden. That is all."

Anora smiled gratefully and Elin was suddenly struck by how pretty the queen was. "Then we have an agreement."

Elin's heart seemed to leap with joy. She would have her army, and Alistair would be free of Eamon's grasp.

* * *

><p>Loghain kept his shield close. The elf had managed a glancing cut to his neck early on, when he had been careless, but he had kept her at bay since then. She circled around him, feigning hits, but made no serious attempt to attack. Loghain grimaced. He would have to go on the offensive.<p>

The next time she feigned, Loghain stepped forward and swung his sword at her exposed side. She danced away just in time and turned the arc of the blow with a sharp tap from a dagger. Loghain nearly stumbled, but regained his footing just in time. The elf stayed low and crouched, and her intense gaze never left him.

There was no more feigning. The elf refused to attack and Loghain was forced to pursue her. It was a stupid thing to do, but she held the advantage if the fight was drawn out. She had no heavy shield or plate armor to weigh her down, and Loghain had not fought properly for many, many months.

Loghain began a slow charge, shield-arm stiff and braced for impact. The elf scuttled out of the way easily and let out a derisive snort. He turned and rushed her this time, hoping the speed and quick attack would be enough.

The shield almost clipped the elf's shoulder, but she rolled away with a grunt. Loghain had not accommodated for her shortness. She was nearly behind him now, and he could not turn quickly enough to face her again. She shimmered at the edge of his vision, there one moment, gone the next. Dread began to tug at Loghain's gut.

The low whistle of steel through air was the only warning he had. Loghain tried to turn towards the noise, but a sudden, piercing pain under his arm stopped him. The dagger twisted viciously as the elf withdrew it, and his shield-arm went limp. The weight of the useless slab of steel was excruciating. Loghain stumbled in a circle, torn between removing the cumbersome shield and his struggle to keep an eye on the quickly-moving elf.

When the shield finally clattered to the stones, Loghain spun on his heel and caught the elf mid-blow. He parried messily, but it was enough to keep her at bay for the moment.

The elf wore a cold, focused look, tattoos rippling over her furrowed brow. She darted toward him, left hand first. Loghain caught the blow easily, but the sinuous steel of her dagger made it difficult to throw. She flicked her wrist violently and deflected his blade so suddenly he did not recover. Her other dagger slid into a gap between his plates and pierced his belly.

Loghain dropped his sword and closed his eyes as he fell to his knees. He clutched at the wound in his gut. Blood trickled over his fingers. "I yield!"

The elf kicked away his longsword and stared down at him with cold, hard eyes that were only belied by her heavy breaths. He expected no mercy.

* * *

><p>Elin flinched as her bedroom door burst open.<p>

Alistair stormed in the room, his expression dark and angry. "How could you do this? He killed our brothers. He killed Duncan!"

Nerves knotted in her stomach. "There's a Blight and we need a general. I don't know how to lead an army. He does."

Alistair shook his head violently. "He knows how to run away."

Anger coursed through her and she moved towards him. He gestured sharply with his hands. "No. You're a traitor, just like him. To the Wardens, to Duncan, to the king. I'd rather abandon my oaths than serve with either of you." He spat at her feet. "I can't believe I slept with you.

The walls seemed to press in on her, and Elin tried to make sense of everything. It had to be a bad dream. "But I love you." She licked her lips nervously and swallowed hard.

Alistair let out a bitter laugh. "Some kind of love."

With that, he turned and hurried from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Elin stared at the door a few moments before her breath caught in her throat. "No." The word was a hoarse, useless whisper.

She crumpled to the floor and sobbed, unable to stop the tears or the way Alistair's words echoed in her head.

The night grew late before her tears were spent. She would not cry over a _shemlen_ again.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always, to xogs for the beta and support!<em>


	12. Dorf'atha

Loghain groaned. He felt as though he had fallen off the top of Fort Drakon and hit every stone on the way down. He cracked open one eye to find the elf peering down at him.

He lifted a hand to his head and winced. The injury under his shoulder still ached after the mage had reluctantly healed him. "Quite a welcome after all that pomp." Loghain pushed himself upright and did his best to ignore the sharp twinge.

The Orlesian held out a hand. "Welcome, brother."

Loghain snorted derisively. "Don't pretend you're happy to see me alive." The other man stepped back with a sigh and let Loghain stand on his own.

"We need to plan." The elf's words were clipped and short, but the obvious distaste was sincere, if nothing else.

"I can certainly do that." Loghain cleared his throat. "What do we have?"

"You know your army. I have figures for mine." She jerked her head toward the door. "There's a study open for us."

"And what am I supposed to call you? Commander? Sister? Elf?" Loghain's bitterness would not endear him, but he was too old to pretend his presence was anything more than an inconvenience.

The elf's green eyes remained flat. "I don't care."

Loghain raised one eyebrow. "Very well. Lead on, Warden."

She turned and marched down the hall without a backward glance.

He followed.

* * *

><p>Elin padded quietly through the dark halls. She could not shake the sound of the Archdemon from her head, but it was quieter when she was awake.<p>

There was a sliver of light shining under the kitchen door. She knocked once before pushing the door open.

Loghain sat at the long table, shoulders hunched. He did not look up.

She gathered a hunk of bread and a bit of hard cheese before taking a seat across the table. Loghain's plate was nearly empty; only crumbs and fruit pips dotted the dish. He glanced at her once before taking a sip of wine. He looked tired.

"Bad dreams?" Elin tore into the bread. It was half-stale and crusty, but she was too hungry to care.

Loghain grunted. "I'm not a scared child who starts at shadows. I can handle them."

She shook her head. "They're real."

He snatched a pear from a large bowl of fruit. "What do you mean?"

"You hear the Archdemon." Elin poured herself a cup of wine as she spoke.

"That's insane." Loghain took a bite out of the pear and chewed furiously. "The Orlesian said it's far south."

"How do you think he knew that?" Elin took a long pull on the wine and murmured happily when she found it still cool from the cellar. "It's the blood. You'll start sensing the darkspawn in a few weeks."

Loghain tossed what was left of the pear onto his plate and glowered at her. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

Elin shrugged and took a bite of cheese. "I've had other things on my mind."

"Like the whelp that deserted you?"

She closed her eyes a moment and steadied her breath. She was too tired to argue. "Like ending the Blight."

"Good answer." Loghain nodded approvingly and grabbed another pear. "Here."

She caught the fruit and lifted it to her nose to smell. "The appetite too."

Loghain laced his fingers and rested his chin against them. "I'd figured that much out. I don't know how you stand it. I feel like I've got a hole in my gut no matter how much I eat."

"At least you've got a kitchen larder. Try travel rations." Elin bit into the pear and sighed into the sweetness. "You should sleep."

"If you can call it that." Loghain pushed away from the table and turned to leave.

Elin took another bite of the pear and rested her elbows on the table.

"Warden?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at Loghain. Pear juice tricked down her chin and she rubbed at it with the back of her hand.

Loghain stared at her a few moments before he shook his head. "Sleep well."

As he disappeared from the doorway, Elin nodded to herself. It would do.

* * *

><p>"Warden!" Loghain had tried to shake the hurlock that lay between him and the last clear path to the Warden, but the thing refused to die. "Get out of there!"<p>

The darkspawn had been beaten them to Redcliffe, but only just. In the sudden chaos, the Warden had been separated in the fray and was nearly surrounded by the creatures. She fought like one possessed, but she was only one woman, and the darkspawn seemed endless.

Loghain slammed his shield into the hurlock and sent it stumbling. A quick blow to the thing's neck nearly severed its head, and Loghain wrenched the blade free with a grunt. When he looked up from his kill, he could only see glimpses of the Warden through the throng.

"Forward, men!" Loghain did not look to see if any followed him; he half-feared none would.

He pushed into the fray anyway, grateful the darkspawn could not yet sense him. The Warden and the Orlesian seemed to draw them like flies to honey. The darkspawn shrieked as he cut them, but their fellows paid no attention to the pained cries.

The Warden burst into view as he felled another hurlock. She was alive and fighting, but the blood that covered her was black _and_ red. Loghain lunged forward to catch a genlock's axe.

"Get back to the line." Loghain now had the full attention of the surrounding darkspawn and could barely focus on a single target. There were too many of them.

The Warden held her ground and the two fought for what felt like ages. Battle was worse than Loghain remembered, and he wondered if his luck had finally run out.

Steel flashed from the left and he turned to find half a dozen dwarves carving their way through the darkspawn. It was the distraction he needed.

Loghain grabbed the Warden by the shoulder and started back toward the line. She struggled in his grip. "Let me _fight_."

He continued on until they were well behind the front row of men and women. When she tried to rejoin he moved in front of her. "Go get healed."

The Warden bared her teeth at him. "I'm fine."

Loghain prodded her side. She flinched and glowered at him. "No you're not. Healing tent, now."

"Why are you doing this?" She tried to step around him, and let out a string of angry Elvish when he refused to let her pass.

"Because they follow _you_." Loghain would not argue her need for a general – she had no head for battlefield tactics, and had seemed shocked when he put the Dalish archers near the rear. But he also could not argue that the men there obeyed him because she said so. Losing her now was something the patchwork army might not survive.

She glared up at him, green eyes angry through the mask of blood. "Then let me lead them."

He shook his head. "You can't lead them if you're dead."

The Warden let out a frustrated cry that was almost a growl. "And what will you do?"

Loghain could not help the short laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm going back into battle." The Warden opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Loghain lifted a finger. "But, _I'm_ going to stay with the lines. We can't afford to be reckless."

She frowned. "Saving me was reckless."

He shook his head. "Calculated risk. Now go."

The Warden turned on her heel and stormed toward the healing tents.

Her fierce green eyes and stubborn nature reminded him entirely too much of a young Anora. Loghain pushed the thought away as he returned to the battle. He could ill afford sentiment.

* * *

><p>Elin stared at Riordan in disbelief. A dozen protests ran through her head, but she could voice none of them.<p>

"I am sorry I did not tell you earlier, Elin. I assumed Duncan had told you." Riordan shifted awkwardly. "When you recruited Loghain, I thought you knew the need."

She shook her head. "No." She was willing to die if she had to, but – "It destroys the Warden's soul?" The thought was so final and unforgiving that she shivered despite the warm fire in the room.

"Yes. It is the only way." Riordan reached out to touch her shoulder. "I am sorry to bear such bad news, _ma chère_."

Loghain let out a deep sigh. "So we really are necessary."

Elin glanced at Loghain. It was the first time he had named himself a Warden without hesitation.

"We are. And there are only three of us here." Riordan's gaze flitted to Elin before he continued. "As senior Warden, it is my duty to take the final blow, but we may not have much choice. We must take any chance we can if it means killing the Archdemon."

Elin nodded and tried to quash the dread that began to nest in the pit of her stomach. "I understand." She cleared her throat. "Both of you sleep. We leave early tomorrow."

"And what of you, Warden?"

"I will pray and hope my gods hear me." She had been gone from them too long, and _shemlen_ castles offered little hospitality to the gods of the _Elvhen_.

* * *

><p>Loghain stared at the ceiling and wondered what it was like to die. He could almost hear Maric chastising him for his morbidity.<p>

A low knock sounded at the door and Loghain reluctantly rose to his feet. It was too late in the night for the caller to bear good news.

He opened the door to find the Warden standing with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her gaze darted from side to side. "May I come in?"

Loghain hesitated a moment before nodding. "Very well."

The Warden slipped into the room and Loghain looked down the hall before closing the door. He sincerely hoped she was here for something related to tomorrow's battle.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this." The Warden's gaze was firmly set on the toes of her boots.

Loghain swallowed hard. "Tell me what?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "There might be another way."

He could not help sighing in relief. "Another way to do what?"

The Warden licked her lips. "Kill the Archdemon."

"Ah."

She began to pace across the small room. "I don't know if it will work, or if it's worth the risk." The Warden shook her head. "But if it does, it guarantees to end the Blight, whether we survive or not."

Loghain sat down on the edge of his bed and tried to hide his nerves. "Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>Elin looked up as the door opened. Morrigan hurried down the hall without a backward glance. Elin scrambled to her feet and peered into the room. "Loghain?"<p>

Loghain tugged his shirt over his head. "Warden."

"Do you think –"

"If it doesn't work, she went to a lot of trouble to lie back and suffer through the act." Loghain rubbed a hand over his face.

Elin's cheeks grew hot. She felt responsible, even if the two of them had weighed the risks for nearly an hour before he made the decision. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Loghain sighed heavily. "If it works, then Ferelden has a chance to be safe. I'd give anything for that."

She could only nod. "I understand."

He gave her an appraising look and something that was almost a smile. "I suppose you do."

"Get some sleep."

Loghain shook his head and let out a long breath. "I don't think I can."

She smiled sadly. "Neither do I."

* * *

><p>Riordan was dizzied by the Archdemon's call. It was so close he could <em>see<em> it, and his blood burned to follow. The whispers in his head grew clearer every day, and beneath the promises of glory and life, there was a sinister note that urged him to obey. The constant struggle had him near the edge of sanity. He needed to end this.

Elin ran up to him, and Loghain followed closely at her heels. "Riordan! The gates are clear, what should we do?" Her eyes were wild and kept nervously glancing to the sky.

"There are two generals." Riordan could hear their commands as clearly as the Archdemon's. "One is just to the east, I think. The other…" he closed his eyes and tried to focus, but his head was already filled to bursting with the caressing whispers. "I cannot tell. You must kill them both."

"And after that?" Elin licked her lips.

"The Archdemon. I will try to bring it down." He ached to touch it, to feel it beneath his fingers before he died. Maybe that would soothe the maddening itch in his blood. "Go to the highest point in the city. It will seek out the Wardens."

Images flashed through his mind, painfully bright and clear. The Archdemon hunted him. "I must go!"

He turned and ran before she could see the tears that ran down his face. The song was beautiful and pure. He had to end it.

* * *

><p>Elin worked at the mechanism with blood-slicked hands and tried to dislodge the stuck gear. The ballistae were invaluable, but the grease had long since thickened to a sticky paste. The gear abruptly gave way with a satisfying click. "It's ready!"<p>

The two dwarves helping her swing the heavy piece around to face the Archdemon and fired. The bolt caught the dragon in the shoulder and her head swam as it roared in pain. It struggled to rise, but the injured foreleg would not bear its weight. It was nearly finished.

Elin rushed from the platform to pick her way across the battlefield. Mages stood amidst clusters of dwarves and elves, casting wards and healing spells. The darkspawn chased after the first things that caught their eye, too intent on chaos to attempt tactics.

By the time she reached the Archdemon, Loghain was already there, darting forward for a slash when he could, but mostly struggling to keep out of its reach.

She joined Loghain, and together they attacked. Feign right, attack left, withdraw; straight charge, feign left, withdraw. The slashing blows they managed only seemed to anger the Archdemon and they finally retreated several paces.

Loghain leaned on his knees and struggled to catch his breath. "We need to get at its neck. The scales there are soft."

"How do you know?" Elin had heard nothing of Loghain slaying dragons.

He looked at her for a few moments. "A friend told me."

"Can you do it?"

"No. I'm not fast enough, but you are." He held out his longsword. "I'll distract it."

Elin sheathed her daggers and took the blade. The sword was heavy and strange in her hands, but it was what she needed. "Thank you."

"Just kill it. That will be thanks enough." Loghain turned to the Archdemon and took a deep breath. "Ready?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p>The hum in Alistair's head abruptly stopped. He stood up from the table on unsteady legs and stumbled to the door. He opened it to find blue skies and sunshine, exactly the same as it had been when he had arrived two days before.<p>

Alistair slumped back to his table and tried to ignore the odd glances people were giving him. Something had changed.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you to the fabulous xogs for beta services!<em>


	13. Halam'din Tu'nuvenin

Loghain slipped out of the great hall noiselessly. There were very few people in there happy to see him alive, and Anora was busy securing alliances among the nobility. The Warden had disappeared in a crowd of well-wishers hours ago, and he had not seen her since.

The corridors were blessedly quiet, and Loghain took a deep breath of cool air. The great hall had been hot and noisy, and it was good to be away. He nodded to the guards as he pushed through the tall doors that opened into the gardens. The night sky was clear, and the smell of stale smoke was almost undetectable.

"Loghain."

He turned to find the Warden all but hidden in shadows. "Your adoring mob let you get away?" Loghain knew she hated the attention as much as he always had.

The Warden shrugged and stepped toward him. "They didn't have a choice."

Loghain let out a short laugh. "I suppose they didn't."

The Warden fell quiet, and for a while, only the sounds of crickets and night birds disturbed the stillness.

"What do we do now?" It was strange to think the Blight was over, though still not as strange as the thought of him as a Grey Warden.

She leaned against a short, decorative railing and stared out over the garden. "Our duty."

"And what is that?"

The Warden fixed him with a clear gaze. "Hunt the darkspawn. Build the Order."

Loghain shook his head. "You make it sound so simple."

She laughed. "It won't be. It never is." The Warden grew quiet. "But it must be done."

He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes as a cool breeze stirred the air. "You're right." It was beginning to feel like she was always right, though he knew at least some of it was dumb luck, and the rest was likely sheer stubbornness.

"You know the lands in the Bannorn. Figure out the best way to clear the darkspawn and tell me tomorrow." The Warden's leather creaked.

Loghain turned and watched her retreating form. "See you in the morning, Elin."

She stopped and half-turned her head. "And you as well, Loghain."

He could not help the smile that curved his lips as she disappeared into the palace. He had always loved a challenge.

* * *

><p><em>That's it! Thank you to xogs, for the ever-faithful betas despite the 3x a week updates, and thank you to my readers and followers. Your support has been greatly appreciated! Another story I wrote, "Taking the Time" is a sequel to this, if you're interested in what happens to Alistair. <em>

_It's been a lovely ride._


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